


New Black Gold

by Shir0gane



Series: New Black Gold [1]
Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Bromance, Canon Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shir0gane/pseuds/Shir0gane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fanfiction dedicated to the game <i>Deus Ex: Human Revolution</i>, based on its narrative and the way I played the main character, Adam Jensen.<br/>I'm disregarding any complementary canon.<br/>As I'm closing some time gaps, I mainly concentrate on Jensen coping with his situation and focus on the relationship between Jensen and Sarif.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This piece of work was heavily inspired by Miracle Of Sound - [The New Black Gold](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oe-f25KmrdA)
> 
> Title courtesy of Miracle Of Sound (thank you, Gav)  
> Characters © Eidos Montreal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally hosted on [DeviantART](http://shir0gane.deviantart.com/art/New-Black-Gold-part1-420004820). See comments there for further details.

_2027, Detroit, Sarif Industries HQ, Micro-Chem Labs._

 

The fire alarms were still wailing, filling the entire facility with an unnerving demand for urgency. Flickering red warning lights flashed over scorched white walls. Heavy smoke still lingered in long corridors, while wrecked consoles coughed up electric sparks. Small fires remained, smoldering through plastic and metal, leaving an acrid stench in the air.

‘Jesus Christ!’ David Sarif gasped at the sight of utter destruction that had befallen his laboratories. It was much worse than he had dared to imagine.

Surrounded by a group of security guards, the CEO of Sarif Industries waited impatiently for the emergency personnel to clear the doorway to Subsection 6 from potentially dangerous debris.

‘Frank,’ he contacted his Chief of Cyber-Security via Infolink, restlessly pacing back and forth while trying to replace the sensation of helplessness with something useful. ‘Tell me you found something. Anything.’

‘I’m sorry, boss,’ the answer resounded right inside his head. ‘Whatever happened down there, it fried the whole surveillance system. I can’t even get a lock on the researchers’ GPLs.’

David cursed in silence. At least five scientists had been inside the inner labs when the fire broke out, and not just any scientists. Not to mention Adam Jensen, Sarif’s Chief of Security, who David had personally sent down here to check on the situation. All of them probably dead.

How could this have happened?

A moment later one of the men working at the door gave his OK to proceed, and David was one of the first to enter the sealed-off area.

‘Be careful, sir,’ an armored guard tried to hold him back, but David gave a damn about safety right now. It was already too late for that.

‘Don’t worry about me,’ he barked at the man, more aggravated than intended. ‘Go, look for survivors!’

Anybody, just anybody, please, dear Lord...

Following the order, the emergency personnel swarmed out, searching, clearing and securing. It took no less than five minutes before the first report came in. They found a body, burned beyond recognition. Then a second one. And a third. All the same.

David gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. This must be a bad dream. Nothing but a bad dream...

‘Holy shit!’ one of the men suddenly exclaimed in utter surprise over the radio. ‘He’s breathing! He’s still breathing! I found a survivor! He’s alive!’

David immediately shook off the stiffening grasp of despair and, filled with a rekindling spark of hope, hurried towards the source of the communication, just to freeze again where he stood as soon as he laid eyes on the mutilated body buried beneath the rubble of a retaining wall.

‘It’s... Jensen, sir,’ a security guard identified his superior, but David already saw.

‘How can he still be alive?’ another wondered, and David could hardly believe it himself.

There was blood everywhere. Thick shards of broken glass had cut practically every inch of the Chief’s skin, most of them still piercing the flesh. Jensen’s abdomen was slashed and his guts spread about the floor. The left arm was smashed to a pulp and, worst of all, the gaping bullet hole on the left side of his forehead permitted a shocking insight into pure nothingness.

Yet Jensen’s eyes were wide open, blindly staring at his own personal void, and the bubbles of blood, regularly oozing out of a cut in his cheek and trickling into the black beard, proved him still alive indeed.

‘Oh god, Adam!’ David called out to his security chief, pushed a shocked guard out of his way and went down on his knees beside Jensen, completely ignoring the gore soiling his expensive designer clothes.

‘Come on, stay with me. Don’t you dare give up now. I got you, son. Stay with me, please.’

Trembling, he reached out for the broken body, and when he caught sight of his own ornate cybernetic arm, he realized there was only one way to save this fading life. He knew Adam would abhor, probably even hate him, but there was no other option.

Snapping back to reality, David turned to face the stunned emergency personnel.

‘Don’t just stand there gawking! Get him to a clinic, stat!’

The sharp command finally animated the helpers to new activity, calling in paramedics and clearing away the rubble.

David pitched in to assist, unable to just watch and do nothing.

Less than ten minutes later he found himself sitting next to Adam inside the VTOL that was carrying them to the closest LIMB facility, forehead resting on the knuckles of his folded hands, silently praying and urging the aircraft to go faster.

As it had turned out, Adam really was the only survivor. The collapsed retaining wall must have protected him from the fire; still, it was a miracle he had survived injuries this fatal. David wondered if that fact related to the security chief’s genetic anomaly or was just a result of sheer strong-mindedness. Adam had proven his stubborn temper more than once, after all.

But no matter the reason, he was running out of time.

Just don’t give in yet!

The short flight seemed to last an eternity, but as soon as the VTOL touched down and opened its hold, a group of LIMB medics scurried in to take care of Jensen and transport him inside the facility, David right on their heels.

In front of the operating room he met with Dr. Karim Fong, who he had requested personally, knowing him to be one of the best in cybernetic prosthesis surgery. And right now, Adam needed the very best.

Dr. Fong gave the case sheet compiled by the paramedics earlier a quick survey, then examined Jensen directly while his team prepared him for processing.

‘Penetrating head trauma, causing a severe hematoma; massive blood loss; severed limb; fractured ribs...’ his Mideastern accent was heavy, and his dark eyes were full of concern when he turned to face David. ‘I’m not sure I can save this man’s life, Mr. Sarif.’

But David didn’t want to hear any of it and fixated him with a determined gaze.

‘Do whatever it takes, Doc. Sarif Industries will provide the necessary hardware. But should he die, I’ll hold you responsible.’

Fong raised an eyebrow in obvious disapproval.

‘You are aware that the procedure causes serious distress to both body and mind. In his condition I can’t...’

‘His body can take it,’ David interjected, knowing this for a fact. ‘Just do your job, Doc. I’m not losing anyone else today.’

‘Very well,’ Fong frowned, but complied, studying the medical chart once more. ‘There is a possibility I can preserve his right arm and...’

‘No,’ David cut in again, almost detesting himself for what he was about to say next. ‘He’s no use to me like this. You’ll replace all limbs with cybernetics, and there are additional modifications I want you to perform.’

There was no question about it anymore, after everything that had happened these last few hours. The results of the research Dr. Megan Reed and her staff had died for today belonged to Adam Jensen, the man who had made this bio-technological breakthrough possible in the first place.

Dr. Fong didn’t make any effort to hide his reluctance, but was in no position to object. He knew Sarif’s company policy and corporate influence all too well.

So he just nodded his understanding, turned away to enter the operating room and left David behind alone.

‘God, forgive me...’ he whispered to himself after the MD was gone, facing the grave decision he had just made for another human being; a man more than an employee, more than what he considered a friend, a man only met once in a lifetime.

‘Forgive me, son...’

The surgery went on for over ten hours until Adam was finally out of mortal danger.

David didn’t leave the observation chamber for one moment, ignoring the damage control he should have taken care of, ignoring the blood drying on his clothes, ignoring the inflaming scratches left on his organic hand from clearing the debris off Jensen’s body, ignoring the fatigue trying to overwhelm him.

All he could remember afterwards were the dreadful screams emanating from the OR; screams that could only originate from a fierce battle against death itself.

 

 

_2027, Detroit, LIMB clinic, Infirmary A_

 

There were screams echoing in his ears; far away, yet disturbingly present.

Who was screaming? Did something happen?

Right, something did happen, something terrible.

Adam remembered a sense of danger, gunshots, fire, a dear one in distress, shock, pain, struggle... and the deadly, abyssal muzzle of a .357 Magnum pointed at his head - his very own .357 Diamond Back.

Then, there was nothing but a bright light...

Adam forced his eyes to open.

Right, light... Too much and way too bright.

But he doubted hell was that luminous, and since there was no way he had gotten himself an invitation to heaven, that meant he was still alive? Where, the heck, was he then?

The light was still too dazzling though, causing him a piercing headache, so he closed his lids again to try and clear his view.

This was wrong. Something, no everything felt... just wrong, somehow out of place. And why did his eyes hurt so much?

Adam’s next attempt to determine his whereabouts turned out to be more successful. There were forms slowly taking shape in front of his eyes, shadows contrasted with the lights he identified as frosted lamps above and around him.

Then the shapes intensified, solidified, until he was able to distinguish four familiar letters etched into the opaque surface of the lights; four letters that filled him with instant and bottomless terror: limb.

No. No! No, no, no, no, no...

Adam jerked up, just to get halfway overwhelmed by a consuming pain, denying him his next breath and flaring his vision.

But pain, breath and flares were forgotten the moment he caught sight and fixated on the black, metallic abomination that should have been his hand.

No...

This wasn’t true... it couldn’t... it mustn’t...

Adam felt an icy grasp clench his heart, as he watched in horror the synthetic digits respond to his automatically given command, rolling into a fist.

No.

Dreading, yet unable to refrain, he broke away, looking left to see his fears indeed confirmed. The shiny black substitute of a human arm, copying its right counterpart, went all the way up to where his shoulder was supposed to be, holding a tight grip on his torso.

No!

Crippled, dismembered, corrupted, broken - and artificially rebuilt?

Adam felt panic slowly taking over. The blood froze inside his veins, his breath became shallow and frantic, his heartbeat rose to a fierce pounding inside his chest, his stomach roiled and his vision blurred, as a red veil fell over his eyes and rendered his mind blank.

Somewhere nearby an electric beep went off, signaling an emergency, but Adam hardly noticed anymore; just like the shapes suddenly approaching and the voices shouting. All that remained was a horrendous abyss suffocating any reasonable thought, while he found himself sucked into darkness.

Hands clutched for his body in an attempt to push him down, overpower and restrain him; and Adam reacted by instinct alone when he desperately rebelled to break free.

The shouts grew louder, accompanied by rattling noises; something heavy crashing to the ground; the ugly crack of a snapping bone; a shriek; a strange metallic clink, followed by the unmistakable smell of blood.

Then, Adam felt invaded by an alien weakness all of a sudden, rendering his limbs numb, quelling his frenzy and choking his rage.

He tried to revolt once more, but fatigue’s tender embrace proved to be merciless.

Right before he fully lost awareness, he realized the screams that had penetrated his dreams before had been his own, bursting out from deep inside himself that very moment.

 

Adam’s next awakening happened to be more peaceful.

Even though he remembered instantly as soon as his mind entered consciousness, he felt somewhat... distant, calm.

Maybe it was the drugs still working.

Maybe there was a way to adapt, after all. There was no other choice anyway, was there?

But for that to begin he had to face it first.

So he took a cautious breath, steeled his guts and slowly opened his eyes.

He found himself inside the same room he had woken up in the first time, lying in a clean bed and surrounded by orderly arranged medical equipment. None of it showed any traces of his violent outburst earlier; no scratches, no damage. Though he guessed, that didn’t apply to the people who got hurt during the incident. He still remembered the sound of a snapping bone and the scent of blood, vividly.

Shoving the rising sense of guilt aside, he forced himself to focus on more immediate matters and finally dared to lift his right hand before his eyes.

There it was. Black, metallic, artificial... and horrifying. A travesty attached to his very core.

Adam felt his heartbeat increase again, his breath accelerate, his body tremble...

Calm down, damn it, concentrate, think!

The design was unfamiliar, he analyzed, rationally, though the fabrication clearly related to Sarif Industries. A prototype, then?

Adam wasn’t sure he liked the idea; not that he liked any of it, at all.

But this prosthesis obviously was a weapon built for combat. He could feel the strength residing within the electro-active polymers, imitating, even surpassing, human muscle tissue; not to mention the hidden nanoceramic blade he somehow knew to be there.

He raised his left arm to compare and found both limbs to be identical up to his shoulders where they tightly enclosed his torso, fanning out in splayed clamps. In the space between he noticed metallic bolts penetrating the seemingly organic skin.

So, they reinforced his whole chest cavity with a cage to support the augmentation? What else did he lose?

Following that question an alarming thought surfaced, and Adam couldn’t assess his worries any more urgently, lifting the blanket and looking beneath.

His abdomen had been patched up and neatly bandaged, whereat the legs emerging from his shorts and mounted to his hip weren’t his own, but of the same shiny black line of production as the arm prosthetics.

With paralyzing horror Adam realized he would never be able to stand on his feet again. The only notion still keeping the revulsion in check was the fact that, at least, his privates seemed to have been left intact. Too small a relief, though, to even begin to accommodate for everything they’d taken away.

What else? There had to be more.

The next moment he registered for the first time the strange frames edging his perception, only noticeable from the corner of his eyes. Head-mountings?

Right, a protective shield, screening the eyes if required and displaying a HUD, downloadable right into his cerebral memory.

Why, the hell, did he knew all that? And how, the hell, could it feel alien and familiar at the same time? Like it had always been there; like he just never knew how to use it?

Confusion threatened to overwhelm rationality, and Adam forced himself to calm down once more, taking one slow breath after another.

Head-mountings... most likely implicated retinal enhancements, as well. Which would explain his strange vision - more acute than he remembered and somewhat different - and why his eyes still hurt.

So, they stole his eyesight, too...

Damn you, Sarif!

Lost in his loathing scorn, Adam startled the next moment when the door at the other side of the room suddenly hissed open and a man, carefully balancing a cup of steaming coffee, entered the infirmary.

David Sarif, however, was focussing all his attention on the brimming beverage, so he didn’t notice Adam being conscious and watching, until he came a few steps closer, looked up and instantly twitched in surprise, stopping dead and spilling some hot coffee over his cybernetic hand, not even realizing.

‘Adam!’ he exclaimed. ‘You're awake. I... Ahh, shit!’

Finally registering the dark brew dripping off his fingers and staining his classy waistcoat, David cursed away, put the cup down on a nearby table and shook off the remaining drops, while Adam just observed in silence.

‘How are you feeling?’ David asked eventually, composing himself, yet not without genuine concern in his words.

Adam couldn’t help but feel sarcastic.

‘Why don’t you tell me, boss?’

Ignoring the hoarse sound of his own voice, he raised the augmented hand for David to see, closed it to a fist and activated the blade hidden inside the lower arm. The nanoceramic weapon sprang out with a metallic clink and remained bare, shiny and deadly, protruding from the joint.

Damn, it was as easy as clicking one’s fingers. Maybe even more so, since Adam actually had no idea if it was easy or not to click one’s fingers operating a cybernetic prosthesis.

As expected, David flinched back, barely noticeable, and stared at Adam’s modified limb, before a sympathizing touch entered his eyes.

‘Look, I know what you’re thinking,’ David began cautiously, ‘but you were about to die...’

‘And you think that gives you the right...’ Adam growled back, no longer withholding his resentment.

‘You know damn well I had the right!’ David responded, now vehemently defending his actions. ‘You signed a contract, Adam.’

Yeah, that he did, hoping the special agreement would never come into effect. Still, it wasn’t enough of an answer to justify this kind of humiliation.

‘Right,’ Adam acknowledged, slowly cooling off and retracting the blade. ‘And what’s the other half of the truth?’

There always did exist at least one other, especially with a man like David Sarif.

David appeared to be aware of it too, given his abrupt silence and reluctance to speak on. At that moment he seemed terribly tired all of a sudden, as if a heavy burden weighed him down.

He broke away, trying to fix his eyes somewhere on the floor, until they caught sight of his own cybernetic arm and held on.

‘You’re right,’ he finally said, ‘I've no idea what it must be like for you. It’s just...’ He clenched his artificial fingers into a tight fist. ‘I couldn’t lose you, too, Adam. I already lost too much that day.’

That, at least, was an answer Adam could deal with.

But now he felt like the lowest of assholes himself. Up until now, he hadn’t even thought about what happened to everyone else during the attack. What about...

‘Megan?’ he whispered her name with a sense of foreboding, and when he saw David gently shaking his head, validating the suspicion, Adam felt his stomach convulse.

Shit, he should have been able to protect her, save her! It was his job, his duty, for Christ’s sake, the reason why Sarif employed him!

But he had failed, and now Megan was dead.

‘I’m sorry, Adam,’ David shared his compassion. ‘I know, Megan and you were--’

‘That was quite a while ago,’ Adam cut in, though he couldn’t neglect he and Megan had been very close once and still used to hook up from time to time even after their relationship had ended.

‘What happened back there?’ he forced his thoughts to focus on something more tangible.

‘I was hoping you could tell me,’ David admitted, raising his eyes back at him. ‘Aside from a fuzzy witness report and some blurred security footage Frank was able to extract from one of the intellicams we got nothing. The DPD is still investigating, but public opinion holds Purity First responsible.’

‘They were no Purists,’ Adam contradicted, knowing for sure. ‘They were heavily enhanced, military grade. And professionals at that.’

David frowned, but remained silent, obviously processing this new information, while Adam looked down at his own augmentations, recalling the last few memories of the incident, burned into his mind.

Pain, blood and fire. Megan lying on the floor, motionless after saving his life in exchange of her own, right before that bastard put Adam’s gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

He had been powerless, incapable to carry out his responsibility. Maybe... maybe now he could...

He despised the thought the very moment it entered his mind. He didn’t choose this; he didn’t ask for this! Yet, at least it might grant him the opportunity for some payback. After all, he was still alive, wasn’t he?

‘How much did you replace?’ he followed that sentiment, glaring up at his employer. He just had to know.

David seemed to be caught off-guard by the sudden change of topic, hesitated and avoided Adam’s gaze once more.

‘You have to understand, son, you were critically injured...’

Damn it, he was doing it again, dodging straight answers!

‘How much?’ Adam insisted, growing angry.

‘Over fifty percent,’ David eventually caved, and Adam could feel panic resurface and threaten to strangle him.

Over fifty percent? That meant he was more machine than man now?

‘I got you the most advanced equipment Sarif has to offer,’ David continued to explain, ignoring Adam having difficulties to follow his statement. ‘Full limb prostheses, chest frame, spinal stabilizers, Sentinel Health System, rebreather, energy converter, cranial and retinal enhancements, SMART vision, CASIE, reflex booster, Rhino Dermal Armor, optical cloaking, even the Icarus and the Typhoon system.’

Adam hardly got half of it all. There was only one thing he truly began to understand. He had been turned into a weapon, built and owned by Sarif Industries.

‘Apparently due to the heavy brain damage, the neural links weren’t fully functional until you regained consciousness,’ David kept on talking. ‘That’s why you had such a strong reaction the first time you woke up.’

"Strong reaction" was gently playing it down; in fact, Adam had been completely out of control.

‘There were a few minor casualties, but don’t worry, I’ll have everyone well compensated.’

Right, all hail the corporate power! If you can’t ease people’s discomfort, just go ahead and buy it!

‘Frank also assures me all of the software will kick in over time,’ David still swaggered on, not noticing the seething rage he fueled with his choice of words. ‘You’ll be a hundred percent operational before long.’

Shut up. Shut up! Shut the fuck up, dammit!

Adam almost couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was on the verge of doing something very stupid. And as a general rule, you just don’t bite your owner’s leg.

‘I think you should go now,’ Adam managed to squeeze through gritted teeth, only barely keeping his anger in check and cutting off David in mid-sentence, who gave him a worried look in return.

‘Adam--’

‘JUST LEAVE!’

The roar was strained and violent and finally convinced David to heed the implied warning.

He took a shaky breath, nodded his consent and was already turning away, but still hesitated, stopping short the next moment and shooting a last glimpse at Adam, about to voice whatever was on his mind.

Don’t.

Don’t you dare say you’re sorry!

Just don’t!

And David didn’t; he simply broke off after a while and left the room without another word.

At least he had the decency not to lie.

Adam slowly leant back into the pillows, desperately trying to regain control over his trembling body, trying to fill the void that threatened to overtake his thoughts with something substantial. But there wasn’t much left.

He realized, he had been wrong before. He had entered hell indeed.

 

As it turned out, Adam still had to undergo three additional surgeries, finishing the modification of his new legs, before he could seriously try to get up and walk on his own, let alone start with any kind of rehab.

Within a short period of days, he was raring to escape the confinement to bed, not only because he urged for unrestricted mobility as it should have been a matter of course, he had a strong need for an adequate lavatory, too, since peeing in a pot every day wasn’t exactly his idea of recuperation.

But when he finally was able to stand up and enter the small bathroom for the first time, shakily on weak legs, he wasn’t in the least prepared for what was staring back at him from the mirror across.

The black nanoscale skin of his cybernetic arms immediately caught his attention, drawing him in, daring to take a closer look. And it was as bad as he had expected, mechanic surrogates taunting the marred remains of his humanity with artificial supremacy.

Very much unexpected, on the contrary, turned out to be his facial traits he had never had a chance to examine before; or rather what was left of it.

Black frames branched over unfamiliarly haggard cheekbones and brows, sticking out, impossible for anyone to miss. An ugly scar crossed the left eye and, right above, a hexagonal depression was embossed into his forehead, marking the cranial enhancement and, most likely, the entrance wound of the bullet that had crushed his skull.

The most shocking sight were his irises though, completely deprived of their former grey-blue color, now an unnaturally glinting yellow-green. He even could watch the retinal lenses counter-rotate with each other when he leant in to have a more immediate look, focusing on their fake image reflected by the mirror surface.

Adam’s guts twisted as he stared into those eyes in aversion, not noticing his tight clutch on the sink until the ceramic gave in and burst under a marrow-chilling crack.

After that, he concentrated entirely on recovery and rehab, finding some resolution in physical activity and learning to handle the prosthetics. Gaining control over their functions worked out surprisingly well, though for quite a while Adam continued to have difficulties gauging the strength of his new limbs and broke several other pieces of equipment in the process.

Worst of all, however, proved to be the annoying psych evaluations when so-called specialists persistently probed and pried into his mind, trying to talk him into some mental trauma.

Adam kept his distance during these sessions, which probably didn’t have a very positive impact on his discharge date. But he knew there was no use in having strangers poke around memories he’d rather leave behind, especially since he couldn’t do a thing about it anyway.

He also kept quiet about his dreams, which didn’t cease to haunt him, filled with screams, blood and fire, always dismissing him with a sensation of impotence and failure. Not much he was able to do about that, either, other than sticking to exhausting training and exercise whenever sleep used to torment him.

Despite all the time and effort he spent on getting acquainted with his new skills, he never managed to become fully adjusted to the lasting sensation of disembodiment that accompanied him since his first awakening; not even when he discovered he was still able to feel. Obviously the nanoscale epidermis grew capable to interpret touch and temperature, as well as degrees of pain, and relay the impressions to his brain. Still, it simply refused to feel like his own.

He did learn, on the other hand, that clicking his cybernetic fingers turned out to be very easy, in fact; only the originating noise didn’t sound right at all to his ears.

Over three months he had to stay at the LIMB clinic, confined and virtually imprisoned; and when he finally got permission to leave, he noticed a certain unease about facing the outside world he should have been abundantly familiar with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally hosted on [DeviantART](http://shir0gane.deviantart.com/art/New-Black-Gold-part2-430906769). See comments there for further details.

_2027, Detroit, LIMB clinic, Office Dr. Vera Marcovic_

 

‘Mr. Jensen, how often do I have to tell you it is very inappropriate to wear your glasses when talking to other people?’

‘Why, Doc?’ Adam felt defiant, even snappy, as it was the case more often than usual lately. ‘What could you possibly hope to see in those eyes? My everlasting soul?’

Ever since Adam had managed to activate the protective shields, he found it much easier to stand his own reflection in a mirror, avoiding the sight of his artificial irises, covering them with golden-tinted shades. Over time, he had simply grown accustomed to it.

‘Mr. Jensen, please,’ Dr. Marcovic insisted, frowning and causing Adam to feel uncomfortable, until he finally gave in and retracted the glasses into his skull.

Every single time, dammit!

‘What’d you wanna talk about?’ he reluctantly asked for the reason of his summoning.

Dr. Marcovic drew in a quick breath and returned to the papers in front of her.

‘According to these analyses I see you fit for discharge,’ she explained, failing to notice the strange unrest she induced Adam with her surprising disclosure.

He had to forcibly swallow the feeling down.

Hadn’t he craved that day ever since he woke up the first time? Why did the thought of leaving make him so queasy all of a sudden?

Maybe because there wasn’t much left waiting for him out there. Maybe because he resented the notion of entirely becoming Sarif’s obliged watchdog. Maybe because he feared to face what he had been turned into.

Dr. Marcovic looked back up at him, obviously anticipating some kind of response.

‘Great,’ Adam brought himself to say. ‘Then I can go now?’

‘Not so fast, there are still a few formalities to discuss.’

Of course, the usual red tape.

‘First of all,’ Marcovic continued, ‘your rehab isn’t completed. Most of your neural links are still dormant, so I need you to come in for supervision on a daily basis.’

‘Daily?’ Adam echoed, disapproving.

‘Yes, unless you’d like to stay.’

No argument about that.

‘Alright,’ Adam yielded, reservedly. ‘What else?’

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she wasn’t finished though, fixating him with stern eyes, ‘I won’t declare you fit for duty, yet. You are still on sick-leave. I just don’t think we can do any more for you here.’

Still having no objections, Adam impatiently waited for her to go on.

‘Then... there is this,’ she finally did, reaching out for a nearby package and placing it right in front of his eyes, which Adam instantly identified as a dosage of Neuropozyne, causing his guts to clench once again.

Did the humiliation never end?

‘You haven’t shown the rejection markers yet, but I want you to take it with you in case you notice any symptoms. Mr. Sarif is going to provide all the supplies you may need.’

Sure, he was.

David, dammit... He hadn’t shown himself or made contact since Adam had demanded him out of his room, weeks ago. And he couldn’t even blame him for that.

Shoving his twisted scorn aside, Adam glared at the Nu-poz as if it was his sworn enemy, before he gave Marcovic a consenting nod. No way around becoming a drug addict, either.

‘And lastly,’ Marcovic concluded, ‘Mr. Sarif appointed a new apartment to you.’

She passed him a pocket secretary, which he indifferently took, having a glance at the data it contained.

He recognized the place. Chiron Building, 420 Grand River Road. It had still been under construction, the last time he’d seen it.

He scrolled through the advertising images and information.

_For Better Luxury Living. Spacious Condominiums. Executive Apartments. Short-term or Long-term Leases._

_Chiron Building Services:_

_\- Dedicated concierge_

_\- Private doorman_

_\- 24-hour valet service_

_\- Secure private residence_

_\- Housekeeper services_

_\- Personnel chef services_

_\- Spa services_

_\- Fitness center_

...

Sarif really didn’t spare any expenses to keep him on a tight leash.

Adam put the secretary down and looked back at Dr. Marcovic.

‘Anything else?’

He grew increasingly tired of this.

‘Just one more thing,’ she added, her bright eyes slightly softening. ‘Don’t overexert yourself.’

 

 

_2027, Detroit, Chiron Building, Apartment 3434_

 

‘Welcome home, Mr. Jensen. You have new messages.’

Disregarding the female computer voice greeting him, Adam dropped his bag where he stood, as the door closed behind him with a hiss and the shutters covering the windows across the room simultaneously opened, revealing a panoramic view over Detroit’s luminescent skyline.

The apartment turned out to be gorgeous, to put it mildly, fully equipped with classy styled furniture, just according to David’s taste. To the left, a passage led to an American kitchen, overlooking a spacious living area that was accessible through a short downward flight of stairs straight ahead, at its end another passage leading to the right, to the bed- and bathroom, most likely.

Other than that, the apartment was empty, Adam’s personal belongings still packed and lined up within cardboard boxes along the living room wall.

Welcome home, indeed.

Adam gave in to a voiceless sigh, braced himself and stepped down the stairs. No point in procrastinating the inevitable.

But when he passed the cocktail table in front of the couch, his eyes caught sight of a single book lying there, bringing him to a halt. The title read 'Living with Your New Cybernetic Prosthetic - All you need to know about treatments, recovery, and functionality - second edition'.

This wasn’t one of his.

Puzzled, he picked it up, opening the first page.

_I thought you might wanna catch up on your reading. David_

It even had his personal handwriting.

Adam frowned and suspiciously eyed the short note, then the cover again, before he put the book back and began to open the boxes one after another, unpacking, trying to make himself at home.

 

The first night he slept horribly, tossing about for hours; the second was even worse.

The third night he emerged from a dream where someone was calling him by name.

The moment he woke up, he knew it was Megan, her voice tender in his mind, longing, the way it used to be when she was lusting for him, not crying out for help.

What the hell...?

He assumed that damned picture he had stumbled upon earlier in one of the remaining boxes was to blame. A picture of both of them together, happy, some few years ago.

‘Adam...’ he could almost hear her hungrily sigh right into his ear and found himself defenseless against the vivid memories, involuntarily occurring; memories of her pleasant curves, soft skin, a scent of lilies, her short-breathed gasps when he used to satisfy both their carnal desires.

Fierce arousal concentrated in his loins, setting his whole body aflame, yearning for release.

Stop it!

He only barely mustered the strength to restrain himself, the impressions about to overwhelm all reason.

This was highly inappropriate. She was dead, for Christ’s sake! Think of something else, dammit, anything!

The very next thought, responding to his desperate demand, stopped him cold and made him relive the remembrance of a deadly muzzle put to his head and a trigger getting pulled. His excitement died down immediately and left him behind with nothing but an empty, self-loathing rage.

Great, now he was in a really bad mood.

Physically and mentally exhausted, yet unwilling to seek any more sleep, Adam untangled himself from the blanket wrapped around his legs and got up, hardly stifling the pain still lingering in his groin.

The clock by his bed showed a quarter past three in the morning.

The hour of the wolf... Again.

Shit.

Adam turned away and headed straight for the living room and the last packed boxes he had decided to leave alone after he’d found Megan’s picture before.

But, if they’d sent over all of his belongings, then somewhere... here... should be...

There, his emergency stash of whisky and smokes.

He had refrained from approaching it up until now, but tonight he undoubtedly was in need of some oblivion.

Supplying himself with an ashtray and a glass filled with ice he had already cared for in case of necessity, he settled himself on the couch to pour a lavish slug of amber liquor over the frozen cubes.

Raising the drink, he pulled short for a moment, right before the glass was about to touch his lips, breathing in the auspicious vapor of ethanol, then gulped the strong spirit down in one greedy swig.

Heat burned its way down his throat, inflamed his stomach and spread about the remnants of his organs, granting him the soothing experience of dying a little death.

But the sensation didn’t last; Adam cleared up way too soon.

He poured a second glass, with the same result. A third one. A fourth.

Then it finally hit him.

Sentinel Health System.

His modified metabolism was compensating for the intoxication caused by the alcohol. And it was no different with smokes, he figured out shortly after, the inhaled nicotine immediately getting neutralized by his artificial lungs.

No! This just wasn’t fair! Did that cursed body of his even have to deny him the satisfaction of sweet apathy? Wasn’t he allowed to forget, just for a little while?

Refusing to abandon the attempt, Adam poured himself one drink after another and, as it turned out, if he kept the flow of alcohol going he was able to trick the metabolic rate into an almost sufficient delay.

It took him no less than two bottles of Tango Foxtrott to finally enter a state of adequate drunkenness, to render his dark thoughts unfocused and his body woozy; so he cherished this achievement by drinking even more.

He didn’t notice the heavy impact on his system until he had to get up and take a leak, some time later.

Dull and on unsteady legs, yet somewhat at ease, he had to struggle for balance on his way over to the bathroom, just to abruptly run into bitter reality again the moment he caught sight of his impersonation in the mirror; eyes uncovered, simply forgotten after waking up.

Adam couldn’t help but feel instant and irrational hatred boil up for that guy staring back at him; hatred for the yellow glinting eyes, the ugly scars and mountings, the black perversions of human arms.

A guy broken, not even half a man anymore, wearing his face, pretending.

Fuck you!

He didn’t saw the blow coming until his fist cracked the glass and shattered his alter ego to pieces.

Empty reason annihilated Adam’s rage the next second, as he became aware of the wreaked damage.

Crap!

Another piece of equipment destroyed. He really should stop doing that.

Numbly, he detached his knuckles from the point of impact, just to register there was no blood running down the shards, not even pain left to feel.

Fool...

At least he didn’t have to put up with his reflection anymore.

 

The next day he was startled awake by a strange noise striking his head out of nowhere.

Puzzled, Adam opened his eyes and looked around to find himself uncomfortably slumped on his couch, yet alone, the sound gone.

What was wrong? Did he imagine...?

No, there it was again.

A white noise, resounding right inside his skull. It broke off several times, continued; then a voice became intelligible.

‘-- should do the trick. Test, test.’

Adam knew that snarky tune very well.

‘Pritchard? Is that you?’

‘Who else do you think it might be? Leonardo da Vinci paying his respect?’ Sarif’s Chief of Cyber-Security responded, sneering. ‘You haven’t been that dead.’

Right, screw you too, Francis!

Adam took a calming breath and generously let the suckerpunch slide.

‘What are you doing in my head?’

‘Calibrating the connection to your Infolink, obviously.’

The "moron" at the end of the statement was solely implied, yet trying Adam’s patience once more.

‘Could you at least give me a warning, next time?’

‘What, Jensen, you want an official announcement? Or did I, perchance, happen to interrupt some private joytime of yours?’

Pritchard indeed never failed to seize an opportunity to place a cheap shot.

Adam barely suppressed the growl looming inside his throat by now.

‘I was asleep.’

‘At this hour? It’s almost noon, you know?’

Yeah, Adam was very well aware. Not nearly late enough.

‘Was there anything else you wanted?’

‘No.’

So, just bitching, then?

‘Good. Now piss off and stay out of my head, Francis!’

To his relief, Adam quickly found a way to sever the connection before the tech could add another of his snide comments.

Asshole!

Scarcely composing himself, Adam sat up and rubbed his temples to banish the lagging sense of annoyance from his mind. Then he took a second look at the remains of his late-night bender.

Three empty bottles of whisky, the ashtray brimming; and he didn’t even have a hangover.

Great, what’s the point of getting wasted, if you can’t feel miserable afterwards?

Stifling a sigh, he leant back into the couch, musing what to do with himself now that he was awake. His daily appointment at the LIMB clinic wasn’t due until afternoon and up to this point he had spent most of his time unpacking. But after that disturbing dream last night he didn’t feel like it anymore.

He needed another distraction, soon.

Then he remembered the Chiron Building also offered spa and fitness services, perfect to keep body and mind in shape, as well as occupied.

So Adam rose as if he had a purpose, skipped breakfast, sensing it would only make his stomach churn, and stepped into the bath to freshen up. There, he found himself confronted with the smashed mirror again, reflecting only fragmented pieces of his self.

Stupid, stupid action.

He’d better arrange a replacement.

On his way down to the fitness center located in the basement, he stopped by the lobby to inform the concierge of his request.

The woman behind the counter ogled him in bold astonishment and shot leery, ill-concealed glimpses at Adam’s augmented hands.

‘But, Mr. Jensen, you moved in only a few days ago. What could possibly have happened?’

‘It broke,’ Adam simply dismissed her pretext query, unwilling to partake in that kind of dance, then left her behind, heading for some physical diversion.

As it turned out, the fitness center also provided a small doujo section where Adam battered the training dummy until late dusk, only interrupted by his visit to the LIMB clinic and, seizing the opportunity, restocking his supplies of booze.

 

In the evening, after the fitness center had closed, Adam found himself again sitting in his living room, staring into space and brooding how to enter sleep without giving in to drinking himself senseless.

Distraction...

A moment later he realized the single book still lying on the cocktail table, buried beneath some of his personal stuff he hadn’t found a place to store, yet.

"Living with Your New Cybernetic Prosthetic", eh?

Reservedly, he reached for it to eye the cover once more.

There wasn’t much to it. The plain title, tagline, edition and authors’ reference, and a medieval-appearing drawing of a cybernetic shoulder attached to a human body.

More conflicting, on the other hand, was the handwritten note on the first page.

_I thought you might wanna catch up on your reading. David_

At odds, Adam stared at the letters, and it took him a while until he finally discovered the inconsistency buried within the writing itself.

At the end of the sentence, right above David had put his signature, the words seemed to be unfinished, a comma altered into a period. Like he had meant to write more; like there was something missing.

Adam’s guts knotted.

Damn you... David!

He turned the next page and began reading.

He didn’t brave the night without sweet, alcohol-induced oblivion, though. He didn’t even remember half of what he had read.

He did remember, however, the passage about the origins of simple mechanics, a water clock built by the Muslim inventor Al-Jazari in 1206. And he did remember his associated thoughts about getting more acquainted with his prosthetics and improving their fine motor skills at that.

So he began to order bits and pieces to build his own clock the next day, finding some abstraction in the self-imposed task for a while.

 

‘At Sarif Industries, a better tomorrow is our passion.’

Adam jerked awake from a disturbing dream he couldn’t recall by the next moment. It didn’t even matter; most certainly, the usual horrors.

The living room was doused in flickering blue light, solely radiating from the still-running TV, while on screen a Sarif commercial portrayed a cybernetic hand reaching out in a Michelangelo-like fashion, having a butterfly gently landing on the tip of its index finger.

Better tomorrow, my ass!

Adam sat up, wiping the sweat off his forehead and burying his own artificial digits in his hair for a moment.

For over two months now he had been trying to make himself at home in his new apartment; for two months he had been trying to cope with all the changes on his own; two months in which he visited that damned LIMB clinic daily to get his credentials. And he still wasn’t able to accept his altered condition, after all.

In the first couple of weeks lots of get well wishes from concerned co-workers and subordinates had arrived, offering condolences and comfort, many of female origin; but ignoring every single one of them, Adam felt there wasn’t any comfort for him in store, so he had stayed in solitude, and the notifications had stopped, eventually.

At some point, he couldn’t remember when, he had also smashed the renewed mirror in the bathroom a second time, piss drunk again, and was still waiting for another replacement.

Even the clock-making he had built some of his hopes on turned out to be only partly helpful, the unfinished components remaining scattered in pieces all over the workbench.

Truly, fucked up beyond any recognition.

On screen the picture swapped, now displaying Eliza Cassan reporting on economic trends and stock market values, which Adam indifferently absorbed.

‘Meanwhile, the augmentation industry is booming, and companies are experiencing an all time high, with Tai Yong Medical stocks in particular going through the roof. Sarif Industries, on the other hand, has yet to recover from the severe blow dealt by an attack on their facilities earlier this year.’

This particular news did catch Adam’s attention, and he took it with a growing sense of unease.

Despite the ever present awareness that he hadn’t been able to prevent the incident, he wouldn’t have assumed Sarif being in any financial troubles. Was this for real or did the media just hype a mediocre fact to create a greater sensation, as they tend to do? In the end, it was Sarif they were talking about; one of the very pioneers in cybernetic enhancements.

Nevertheless, Adam couldn’t shake off his rising concerns for some reason and finally decided to bite the bullet and get to the bottom of this.

So, he activated the Infolink and traced back the frequency Pritchard had once used to make contact.

‘Pritchard, are you there?’

‘Yes, I am here,’ came the dismissive answer, promptly. ‘Do you have any idea what time it is?’

Adam skipped the anticipated reproach.

You are still awake as well, dipshit.

‘Sarif’s financials. Is it as bad as they say?’

A brief, hesitant pause; caused by surprise?

‘As who says?’ The inquiry was precautious.

‘It’s all over the news,’ Adam shared his observation, not realizing he had given Pritchard an involuntary opening.

‘So, you enjoy yourself leisurely watching TV all night while other people work their asses off...’

‘The financials, Francis,’ Adam reminded him, ceding, yet growing impatient.

‘What makes you think I would know? In case you didn’t notice, I’m everything but an accountant.’

‘Yes, but you are running numbers, Francis. Don’t tell me you have no idea which way the numbers flow.’

Another moment of silence, longer this time.

‘It doesn’t look good, I can tell you this much,’ Pritchard finally caved in. ‘The attack five months ago had cost us millions. Redevelopment will cost us even more. Taggart and his Humanity Front freaks subtly turn the tables against us, and your reconstruction wasn’t exactly an act of charity, either.’

Adam felt his stomach drop. He had feared about that, but didn’t dare to take it seriously.

Shit, Sarif’s leash really didn’t cease to tighten its grip.

‘Thanks,’ he forced himself to acknowledge and severed the connection.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit.

He coiled over, contrite, burying his head in his hands once more.

The everlasting thought of owing Sarif had consistently threatened to drive him mad over these past weeks; especially since he wasn’t able to make any kind of a difference, confined to sick-leave and in incessant doubt that he was even up for the task.

Shit.

A searching glimpse over the cocktail table confirmed his very next worry. The booze was gone. Again.

Great! Now he had to go restock his supplies.

Load of shit.

 

The chill, early-autumn night was clearing his troubled mind a little, as Adam walked down to the nearest 24-hour convenience store, located at a corner of Grand River Road right where it turned towards the police station.

Humid air and a cool wind already heralded in the end of the year and caused Adam to wrap his coat closer.

Four purchased bottles of whisky, along with three packs of Royal Hellhounds later he passed by the entry to Earl’s Court, one of the derelict neighborhoods, where he was brought to a sudden halt by a provoking voice in his back.

‘Hey hanzer, al’lone’n the streets this late, a’ya?’

The slurred accent was of obvious Latino origin, male and unmistakeably drunk.

Adam cursed himself, emerging from his brooding thoughts, and took a quick, alert look around. He was all alone on the street, indeed; and he had paid no attention.

Damn, stupid rookie mistake!

The next thing he heard was the clicking of a hammer being cocked.

A semi-automatic, he realized; though, he couldn’t make out a model from sound alone.

This night was just getting better and better...

‘Y’must be well loaded, c’nsidering yur fine gear. H’nd over th’valuables, all o’them.’

Adam struggled to keep his cool, cautiously splaying both arms to pose no immediate threat, while he tried to give the guy a single, fair warning.

‘Trust me, you really don’t wanna do this, cholo.’

‘Shuddit ‘nd gimme ya money, fuckin’ cog!’

Adam couldn’t help but feel his rage resurfacing, smoldering up from within a deep, barely constricted well.

He never did ask for this, dammit!

Slowly, agitatedly, he turned, arms still raised by his sides, to examine his opponent.

The latino-african hobo really was more drunk than practiced; all by himself, unsteady on his legs, gun pointed at Adam only two paces away. One single step and Adam could easily disarm him.

And so he did.

Seizing the moment of surprise, Adam dropped the bag where he stood, went in, grabbed for the hand holding the gun and twisted it behind the other’s back, spinning him around while placing a tight grip around the guy’s throat. All in about one move.

The shithead virtually petrified in his arms, suddenly becoming aware of the situation having turned against him.

Adam, on the other hand, only felt cold resolve.

How easy it would be to just snap this fragile, little neck. One precise shift with his fingers to dislocate the atlas vertebra and sever the nerve roots, instantly dropping him dead. Nobody would even miss this low-life; in fact, he might as well do him a favor by doing so, releasing him from his wretchedness.

Tempted by the very possibility, Adam remained, pondering, but in the end began to notice the all-too-human tremble beneath his fingertips, a jitter born out of fear for life itself, while his captive desperately tried to gasp for air.

Adam was painfully familiar with this sensation.

So, just another victim of society, left behind by evolution and pushed to their limits.

Fuck!

‘Get out of my sight, jackass,’ he growled into the hobo’s ear and let go of his grip a moment later, shoving the other forward, though keeping a hold of the gun.

The Latino stumbled a few steps ahead, coughing and panting, and when he realized he was free to go, shot a single terryfied look behind and instantly took to his heels.

At strife, Adam watched him bolt, disturbingly reminded of something he had once sworn to himself; an oath he took and lived for, for a long time.

An oath to serve and protect. The very reason why he had joined the police force, thirteen years ago.

To serve and protect the many who had just gotten unlucky, the ones overlooked and forgotten by the system, the ones nobody cared for; people still dominating Detroit’s streets. An oath that had eventually become Adam’s reason to exist.

His sole mistake had been to accept the promotion to SWAT.

At first he had enjoyed the rush, ranking up to commander of his squad and, through that, feeling somewhat elite for a while; but as it turned out "to serve and protect" became "to serve and protect political and corporate interests", always assisting the mighty and influential, first and foremost.

Everything finally went down the drain when Adam was given the command to exterminate that augmented kid, classified a threat, back in Mexicantown.

He had refused to carry out the order and quit the force, consequently.

Of course, he had been turned into a public scapegoat in the aftermath. Someone’s head had to be put on the block for the masses, and he had been the one committing insubordination, after all, obviously to blame.

But, it was just a fifteen year old kid, goddammit!

Adam took a deep breath to calm down and settled himself on a nearby brick wall, reaching for the dropped bag and fishing out a bottle of the, thankfully undamaged, Tango Foxtrott, which he greedily emptied by a third before even noticing.

He had been devastated for months after the Mexicantown incident, feeling his entire creed crumble, until Megan eventually came forward, telling him Sarif Industries was reorganizing their safety measures and looking for a capable Manager of Security.

Initially, Adam had been reluctant to work corporate, but of course, he knew about Sarif and of what he was accomplishing for Detroit and beyond.

Ascended from out of nothing himself, yet a dedicated protégé of Hugh Darrow, the very father of cybernetics, David Sarif had decided to revive a city’s dying economy with a new branch of industry, twenty years ago. The change was progressing slowly, subtly, still causing much discontent among the population; but operating at the core of misery for more than ten years, Adam could tell the difference taking effect.

So he had agreed to an interview, and when he met with David in person, had to acknowledge him as one of a kind, indeed.

True, David was corporate from tip to toe, being forced to fight his way up to the top by any means necessary. But he was also bold, witty and, most importantly, genuine. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, probably not even able to do differently; and he didn’t seem to care about what the media was gossiping about Adam’s dishonorable discharge from law enforcement. He had just looked into his eyes and made a decision.

Adam instantly felt a strange connection to this man, convinced that both of them shared a mutual vision of making this world a somewhat better place, each at their own odds, as pretentious as it may be.

Insanely, he took the job without any more hesitation, even realizing there was an enticing upside to the task. By being corporate, David wasn’t strictly bound to public regulations; he had the power to make his own goddamn rules. Which actually was to Adam’s convenience as long as both their rules coincided.

So, what had changed these past few months?

Nothing, in fact.

Did he feel betrayed by David to uphold his contract and, by doing so, turn Adam into an artificial monster and proprietary tool?

Yes. But it didn’t change the truth that Sarif had saved his life.

Did he fail to carry out his duty during the attack and let Megan die?

Yes. But it didn’t change the truth that Adam was still breathing and in the position to make some kind of a difference.

The oath remained, unaltered.

To serve and protect.

If that meant becoming a watchdog on behalf of Sarif or whoever else was to execute Adam’s ideals, so be it. And Adam still had no doubt about Sarif’s motives, David’s vision.

In the end, all of his fucked-up self-loathing over the past months dissolved into nothing but simple vanity.

What, the hell, did he have to lose anymore? Save Sarif.

To serve and protect; no matter the means necessary.

Brooding, he looked down at the gun in his hand.

He identified it as a Walther P22, similar to his first service weapon, when he had started fresh out of police academy, becoming an officer.

Adam hadn’t held a gun since his own Magnum had been turned against him. The thought alone had caused him nausea. But there was something soothing about this nostalgic sensation in his hand, reminding him of his origins.

Adam gave in to a sigh, emptied the bottle by another third and, then, adeptly disassembled the gun into its components, disposing the pieces into a nearby garbage can, and finally headed home.

 

Back at his apartment, Adam dared to take out his carefully shelved sidearms for the first time since the attack.

Still being somewhat hesitant, though, he carried both of the wooden cases into the living room, settled on his couch and poured himself a drink first, before he felt prepared to open the first of the boxes.

It contained his spare .357 Magnum Diamond Back, the very model that had been used to leave him for dead, making him relive the memory and causing his guts to clench, as expected.

Inside the other box he had stored away the 10mm Zenith semi-automatic, his first service weapon. Compared to the Diamond Back its sight turned out to be much more tolerable.

Adam picked up the Zenith and checked magazine well and chamber for potentially remaining live rounds, before he pointed the gun someplace across the dark room, supporting his shooting hand with the other.

Handling and weight felt familiar, even welcome at some level.

He pulled the trigger and heard the hammer coming down, inducing just a short, metallic click.

What, the hell, had been so stylish about a Magnum, anyway? Automatics were much more efficient. Fire rate, reload rate, ammo capacity.

Vanity truly was a bitch!

Adam lowered the weapon to have another examining look at it, locking back the slide, opening the chamber. Of course, some upgrades and modifications had to be done. The Zenith was practically virgin, carried for just about four rookie years of police service until Megan had given him the Magnum for his twenty-fifth birthday, celebrating his promotion to SWAT.

Adam was also well aware that he needed practice, being unarmed for over five months, equipped with new, artificial limbs and out of training in handling semi-autos, at that. Luckily, he was still able to call in an old favor that gained him access to the DPD’s shooting range.

Pondering, he reached for his drink, gun still in the other hand, and leant back into the couch.

He really was going to do this.

Without requiring even a glimpse Adam released the slide-lock and listened to the familiar snap into place sealing his decision.

The next day he added several hours of target practice to his routine; shooting range in the morning, LIMB clinic and doujo until evening.

It didn’t stop him from drinking, though, nor did it stop the recurring nightmares; but it still gave him a sense of resolution.

 

Two weeks later, Adam’s Infolink suddenly went off, interrupting his afternoon exercises.

It was David; and he sounded gravely agitated.

‘Adam, I need you to come in, about now. We’re having a serious situation at Milwaukee Junction.’

Adam didn’t even ask; he was already heading for the elevator.

‘Copy that. I’m on my way, boss.’


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a Human Revolution Hengsha Interlude  
> heavily inspired by [Miracle Of Sound - Breathe](https://youtu.be/0PxiJps-Z0s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> contains het-nsfw
> 
> Originally hosted on [DeviantART](http://shir0gane.deviantart.com/art/New-Black-Gold-part3-678586494). See comments there for further details.

_2027, Hengsha, Kuaigan District, The Hive_

 

‘Make that another one,’ Adam told Bobby Bao and slid his once again empty glass over to the bartender, demanding a replenish.

Bobby showed an ill-concealed smirk at Adam’s request, but didn’t hesitate to take the order.

‘You’re really starting to dig these, are you?’

Adam wasn’t, actually. The Golden Phoenix Sling stung like bull’s piss on his tongue, leaving an awful taste of cough syrup with it; but it was the strongest drink The Hive had to offer and after the fourth refill he barely noticed the cheap note anymore.

‘Just shut up and get me the drink.’

Bobby complied in amused silence and, a minute later, put a freshly mixed cocktail in front of him.

Adam impatiently removed the silly decorations and took a greedy swig of it, soothing his restlessness.

Curse his damn, rotten luck!

He should have been on his way to Montreal, to Picus’s HQs meeting Eliza Cassan, right now, after he had gotten this new lead in his investigation from Tai Yong Medical’s CEO, Zhao Yun Ru, earlier. But as it had turned out, his assault on the TYM institutions had caused an immediate Hengsha-wide grounding for any aircrafts attempting to depart the area. Obviously, Zhao didn’t want to let him escape a second time around.

To keep her out of unnecessary trouble, he had dropped off Malik’s B-EE right after she’d extracted him from the tower and decided to go underground within Kuaigan District, hitting familiar turf. He’d found The Hive, base of operations for the Tong Triad, one of the best possible hiding places to vanish amongst a crowd without running into Belltower commandos, but saw himself confronted with - at least - a night of idle waiting for Pritchard to rig a clearance to leave the city.

So, here he was, sitting at the first floor bar, doused in loud music and surrounded by partying strangers, with nothing to do other than cowardly drink himself senseless again, hands virtually bound, unable to make any difference. Right after he’d discovered...

‘Hey, handsome,’ a nearby, female voice disrupted his thoughts out of nowhere. ‘You’re American, right? Let me buy you a drink?’

Startled, Adam shot the Chinese woman approaching a reluctant glimpse; just to have his eyes instantly gotten caught by the lascivious display of her décolleté and other desirable body parts, barely covered by a tight, black and green dress.

Sudden, involuntary arousal set his blood on fire and settled heavily in his groin, making it hard to catch his next breath.

Shit, exactly the same had happened when he was facing Zhao before, leaving him vulnerable and granting her the opportunity to deceive him with her false pretenses. Except, that wasn’t entirely true.

Of course, Adam had known Zhao was lying, obviously trying to protect herself. But he also had found it always difficult to raise a hand against a woman, no matter the circumstances. And her being all over him, almost intimately touching him and, by that, invading his private sphere, hadn’t been helpful at all.

At some point, he had found himself frozen to immobility, struggling against a long suppressed desire threatening to overwhelm him, allowing her to work her scheme. And on top of that, the old hag hadn’t been anywhere near attractive, dammit.

In very contrast to the woman next to him that moment; young, appealing and, without a doubt, eager.

Intimacy was a bitch!

‘No, thanks,’ he brought himself to say. ‘I just had a refill.’

‘Then let me buy the next one,’ the Asian beauty offered, obtrusively, and leant in a bit more. ‘Since I couldn’t help but notice your...’ Her eyes trailed all over Adam’s body, boldly pausing on his lap before moving up again to re-catch his gaze. ‘...impressive hardware.’

Adam painstakingly had to fend off the demanding flash of lust striking him, a feral urge to just relentlessly fuck her and get it out of his system.

Shit. He really wasn’t in the state of mind to deal with this particular problem right now. Especially not after he’d learned about...

‘Come on,’ she dared him in a soft voice, moved in even closer, revealing a plain view at her tensed nipples against the fabric of her clothes, and put a hand on his thigh, near the crotch, fondling. ‘I can see you want to. Promise to make it worth your while.’

Adam hardly found himself in a position to resist anymore. There was only one way left out of this. Immediate retreat.

So, shaking her off, he suddenly rose and took a step back, not without noticing it to be much more comfortable to stand straight up, than sit hunched down.

‘Really, thanks, but no thanks,’ he hoarsely tried to acknowledge her attempt, as well as her assets; and after three more pounding heartbeats of hesitation he finally managed to turn his back and flee her presence, leaving his drink behind and ignoring her throwing resentful curses after him.

 

Outside The Hive, breathing in Lower Hengsha’s chill evening air, Adam tried to cool himself down.

Did he really just frantically escape an attractive woman’s direct approach while having nothing better to do - at all - for the next imminent hours?

There was a new low for him.

Shit!

He even was aware his instant panic didn’t have anything to do with the fact that he had found out Megan could still be alive, earlier today. He knew she was nothing more but a welcome excuse to avoid facing what was really going on.

True, Megan had been an important part of his personal life for a long time and it would be a plain lie to say her presumed loss didn’t torment him; but Adam had spent the last six months to cope with her death, and their relationship had already been dead long before that.

Yes, they had been maintaining a sexual affair after the break-up, and yes, his last intimate encounter with her had taken place the night before the attack.

She had been anxious about her upcoming presentation, asking him out for a drink, being oddly reserved at first. But after the second Vodka Martini she had started to let herself go, and her demeanor became rather predatory. They barely made it through Adam’s apartment door later, already being all over each other, before they simply fucked their brains out all night long. He’d had her against the hallway wall, in his bed, under the shower and in his bed again; and again, and again...

Adam shook his head to clear his mind.

No, Megan wasn’t the problem. Alive or not, she was a pleasant, but past memory; a sexual relief, like he was to her, like several other women Adam occasionally had dated before the attack; yet, never after. Not since he’d been left for dead; not since his modification. And not because of lack of opportunity.

No, the problem was this cursed body of his. A body broken and artificially rebuilt, turned into a weapon, not even half human anymore. What pleasure could he hope to give like this; what pleasure could he hope to gain?

He even had refrained from releasing his tension manually; he didn’t dare to. He had witnessed these hands break too many things in mindless rage.

How could he consider touch a woman like that?

Adam stopped in his tracks and tried to swallow down the lump of fear strangling his throat.

Enough! He really had no leisure to spare on this shit right now!

When he finally felt adequately calmed down to have a look up and around, he found himself across the main entrance to Hung Hua Hotel, two corners away from The Hive.

How, the hell, did he get here and - most importantly - why?

Sure, he had thought about renting a room for him alone, crashing for the night, earlier, but that didn’t explain why his feet subconsciously had dragged him right in front of Hengsha’s most famous brothel of all places.

Sonuvabitch!

What now?

Crashing, yet or later? Or not at all?

The next moment he noticed an appealing scent of roasted garlic in the air and remembered he hadn’t eaten all day. Yeah, a nice Chow Mein stalling his decision seemed to be a good idea.

So, he followed the appetizing smell past Hung Hua’s main floor to a food stall at the end of Tiantang Road; located between a stairwell leading right, a level down, and another one, straight ahead, leading a level up, next to a passage to Youzhao District.

Adam headed for the deserted counter, took a seat and ordered a dish of fried noodles with pork in soy sauce, along with a beer to wash the meal down.

The young cook immediately got to work, mixing and adding ingredients into his wok, while Adam already opened the can of beer and lit a smoke, impatiently trying to kill time in wait for his food.

He just had his third sip of the Chinese brew when he heard a sudden ruckus behind.

A woman and a guy approaching, heatedly yelling at each other. She, of obvious Chinese origin, but a fluent English speaking, defensive; he, an English native, intrusive.

‘No!’ she fought him off. ‘I said, no! Leave me alone, already!’

‘You still have to learn who you’re dealing with, eh, little cunt?’

‘No! Get off of me!’

Adam clenched his teeth and couldn’t help but have a glimpse over his shoulder, just to see the guy grabbing the woman’s arm and drawing a gun on her.

Fuck!

Why? Why, the hell, did he always have to let himself get dragged into this kind of mess?

He really should know better... but apparently, he didn’t.

‘Hey!’ Adam growled loud enough for both of them to hear and rose from his seat, turning, hand already under the coat and at the grip of the Zenith holstered in his back, releasing the safety lock, ready to hollow that bastard’s skull if necessary. ‘The lady said “no”. Simple enough to understand even for a halfwit like you, I’d guess.’

The quarrel instantly stopped dead at the unexpected intervention and both of them, facing him, stared over in sudden amazement from across the street.

During those few precious seconds, as time seemed to freeze, Adam tried to assess the guy’s response in advance, considering every possible outcome of the situation from getting the gun pointed at up to his opponent taking the girl hostage. He didn’t reckon, however, the other to bail.

‘This isn’t over, bitch,’ the guy hissed at the woman, let go of her arm and surprisingly ran off through the near passageway.

Lucky break.

The next moment, Adam saw the girl collapse, staggering, trying to stay upright on unsteady legs, and was at her side in a heartbeat, supporting her by grabbing her shoulders.

‘I’m alright...’ she whispered in response, yet still in shock and trembling all over.

Like hell, she was.

‘Come on, sit for a while,’ Adam suggested and, when she didn’t resist, gently led her back to the counter and pushed her down at one of the seats before he ordered another beer from the baffled cook.

The guy automatically complied and passed over a can, which Adam opened and pressed into the girl’s shaky hands. It took her a few seconds until she realized the cooled brew, then brought it to her lips and gulped it down in long swigs.

Adam quietly watched her drink, not without noticing that she was kind of cute. Wavy, auburn hair framed a gentle face, spilling down to her shoulders; her physique of shorter height, but pleasantly curved beneath comfortable clothes.

‘Thanks,’ she finally said, put the can down and, for the first time, raised her dark, almond eyes at Adam, full of concern. ‘I’m sorry you got involved in this. But, really, thank you.’

Yep, cute she was. Dammit!

‘Don’t mention it,’ Adam cleared his throat and focused on something more pressing. ‘What about him? Will you be alright or is he going to be a problem?’

He motioned over to the passageway where her attacker had disappeared to.

She started, pondering, and seemed a bit at a loss.

‘I... don’t know, to be honest. He is, was, a customer, a regular of mine.’

Of course... she had to be a Working Girl of all people, most likely coming straight from Hung Hua.

‘But he began to act more and more dominating over time, demanded I quit my job and be there for him, exclusively. I got him banned from Hung Hua.’ She shot a nervous glimpse over to the passageway and grabbed her own arms, rubbing them in self-comfort. ‘I didn’t think he would ambush me with a gun.’

Adam felt an urge to console her in some way, but couldn’t remember how that was to be performed, exactly, when her eyes suddenly went wide in realization of something.

‘Oh god, he knows where I live.’

Great.

‘I suppose your building isn’t properly secured,’ Adam assumed, already knowing the answer, being familiar with the general safety standards of Lower Hengsha.

The girl nodded, confirming.

‘What about the authorities? Can you get them to help?’

‘You mean Belltower?’ Her lips twitched into a wry smile. ‘He’s working for Belltower.’

Oh...

‘Any friends you could stay with?’ Adam still tried to veer the responsibility off of himself.

‘For how long?’ she pointed out, uncompromising. ‘And I’m not going to move either. I’ve worked too hard for that apartment.’

Recalling her attacker’s last statement, Adam knew this was far from over, indeed. And apparently, moving her out of harm’s way wasn’t an option; so the harm had to be put out of her way, instead.

Adam shot another glance at the girl. She was still shivering and hugging herself, but didn’t even ask for assistance; which compelled him the more to not just walk out on her.

‘Do you have any idea where to find him?’

‘Right now? No. He should be at work tomorrow, though.’

Tomorrow wasn’t good enough. By then Adam hopefully would be on his way to Canada. And finding the guy all by himself, without any backup, amidst all of Hengsha would prove to be a very futile attempt. It also would still leave the girl in danger this night. Just fucking perfect.

So, there wasn’t much of a choice left.

Adam cleared his throat once again.

‘This may be an inappropriate suggestion, and I’ll most certainly leave Hengsha tomorrow, but I can offer to escort you home and keep an eye on your apartment tonight. If he doesn’t show, I’ll try to find him until I have to take off.’

The girl raised her brown eyes back at him, wide in surprise and scrutinizing.

‘I couldn’t possibly accept,’ she refused. ‘I already got you dragged into this mess.’

‘Yeah,’ Adam agreed, not without a tang of irony. ‘But that was my call to make. Now I have to see it through, don’t I?’

‘I couldn’t even pay you.’

‘No need,’ Adam declined.

Now she was eyeing him once more, thoroughly from tip to toe.

‘I could... repay you otherwise,’ she hinted at her profession and caused Adam’s guts to clench.

He was dreading that kind of proposal since he had learned she was a prostitute.

‘Really, there’s no need for any compensation,’ he reassured, voice rough.

She looked obviously puzzled, arching an eyebrow.

‘You’re a strange fellow. I’ve never met a guy who would reject the opportunity of a free fuck.’

You don’t say.

Then she put on a sassy smile.

‘At least you don’t look dangerous; well, in fact, you do, but not in a wicked way.’

Comforting.

‘Alright,’ she finally agreed. ‘I accept your offer under one condition.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘I insist on paying for your dinner. It’s the least I can do.’ She gave him a wink. ‘I’m Xiang Ye Hua, by the way.’

Adam heavily had to swallow at the lump stuck in his throat. She was way too cute; and all of this was just a bad idea.

‘Jensen. Adam Jensen.’

‘Nice to meet you, Adam.’

Her perky demeanor made him even more uneasy than he felt already.

He was so going to regret this...

They ordered another dish of fried noodles, two shares of spring rolls and several cans of beer to go, before he finally accompanied her home.

 

 

_2027, Hengsha, Youzhao District, Downtown Apartments_

 

The safety measures at Downtown Apartments were as poor as expected, Adam realized examining the electronic lock at Ye Hua’s place, while she was changing somewhere inside.

‘I could tweak the security level by one or two degrees, if that’s ok with you,’ he offered when he caught a glimpse of her returning to the living room.

‘Sure,’ she approved and stepped into the light, her sudden, plain sight of view taking Adam’s next breath away.

She had casually put her hair up, held by two long needles which suspiciously resembled lacquered chopsticks, and wore just a sleeveless shirt over a pair of comfortable cotton shorts, not in the slightest aware of how sexy she looked.

Damn you, woman. How can you be so ordinarily beautiful?

Adam forced himself to fixate his attention back on the safety lock, intent on hacking the console. But distracted as he was it took him longer than usual to capture hub after hub of the original protocol, break it up into its components and re-encode a more complex routine to the best of his knowledge.

He only managed to raise the security level by one degree, though. Certainly, Pritchard would have done a far better job at this, but since he was unavailable, working on that departure clearance, Adam’s effort had to suffice here.

Meanwhile, Ye Hua had set up dishes for dinner; a shared dinner, Adam noticed when he entered the living room. There were two sets of plates and glasses present on the cocktail table.

‘Erm, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy,’ he tried to prevent her from opening a second can of beer. ‘I’ll eat someplace else.’

She started, turned and, with a crack, ripped the can open, tilting a brow.

‘Where, silly? In the hallway? Did you mean to sleep there, too?’

Adam didn’t respond. That was exactly what he had meant to do. Well, sleep was out of question, obviously, but...

‘You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Ye Hua burst out reading his expression, put the beer down and rushed over to grab him by the arm and slam the door shut in his back.

‘Damn, are you modest,’ she scolded away, hauling him over to the couch. ‘Get in here. Really, you’re offering to help out a complete stranger, demanding nothing in return; the least you can do is let me make you comfortable.’

Not realizing she was doing quite the opposite, she reached for the collar of his coat and resolutely stripped it off his shoulders, leaving him somewhat naked, only dressed in his protective vest, arms bare, before she pushed him down into the cushions.

Adam didn’t resist. He knew, she was right to some point, and, therefore, couldn’t think of a polite way to decline her hospitality. So he quietly watched her pour the beer for him and, then, slump into the nearby comfy chair, sitting on one leg crossed and reaching for her own meal.

Adam didn’t know what else to do than follow her example. He couldn’t possibly just jump up and run off, could he?

They ate in awkward silence for a while.

‘So, what do you do when you’re not saving the damsel in distress?’ she eventually launched the inevitable conversation, for what Adam was almost glad by now.

‘Corporate security,’ he still gave a reserved answer. She didn’t have to know the identity of his employer, nor his position at Sarif.

‘Really?’ she wondered. ‘You don’t strike me as the mercenary type.’

Adam actually had never thought of it that way, but it was basically true. He did sell his skills for profit, in fact.

‘As what kind of type do I strike you, then?’

‘More like a champion of justice,’ she grinned, teasing. ‘Perhaps a cop, or something like that.’

‘I’ve been a cop... once.’

‘I see,’ she said, her grin slowly fading. ‘What happened?’

‘I’ve made a decision my superiors didn’t approve of.’

Adam’s detached response effectively put an end to her prying any further.

‘I see,’ she repeated instead and fell silent again, nibbling on her food.

‘Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?’ Though she tried to hide it, there was a hint of impatience concealed in her voice.

‘Do you want me to?’

Adam dared a look at her, just to regret it the same moment.

The neckline of her shirt had slipped somewhere between her breasts, revealing an alluring view at soft skin and pleasant curves beneath the fabric, while she sat one leg cocked, the other crossed under, nestled in her chair.

Damn, woman...

‘Aren’t you curious?’

‘About what?’ Adam broke off, swallowed hard and focused on rationality. ‘How you became a Working Girl? Why you’re doing this? Or how you did end up with a guy like him?’

Ye Hua kept quiet and he suddenly felt remorse for his invasive words.

‘I’m sorry, it... I’ve probably seen it all,’ he made an attempt to explain, still avoiding her eyes. ‘Good reasons, bad reasons. It doesn’t matter. The struggle is real. It’s a tough world and everybody is trying to survive on their own terms. I’m no one to judge.’

Nobody was, as a matter of fact. Right and wrong was something everyone had to figure out for themselves.

‘Then why do this?’ He saw her gesturing, compassing the whole room, him and her, their situation.

Because he could. Because it was the right thing to do.

He didn’t answer.

She didn’t ask anymore.

After a while Adam saw her shifting in her chair, putting the food down, emptying her beer and, finally, rising.

‘I’m going to sleep now.’ Her voice was surprisingly tender, warm, caring. ‘You’re welcome to join, the bed is big enough for two.’

Yeah, he had noticed the large futon at the other side of the room.

‘But I’m guessing you’ll prefer the couch. It’s very comfortable to sleep on. Blanket and pillow are there. Oh, and help yourself with everything you want.’

For a moment Adam was afraid she was hinting at her profession again, but then saw her pointing at a bottle of whisky instead which had, for some reason, eluded Adam’s attention up until now.

Right, his bad, misinterpreting.

The whisky was a somewhat relieving view, though.

‘Good night,’ Ye Hua gently retired and turned off the light except for a cozy lamp by the table.

In the remaining twilight Adam could only hear her bare feet’s patter on the floor, followed by the rustling whisper of her sheets, when she slipped under and made herself comfortable.

Adam’s chest tightened, painfully in urge to join her, share her warmth, embrace her softness, trigger her lust.

Then why don’t you, idiot?

Because... you don’t fuck the damsel being in distress. It’s just plain wrong.

Adam took a calming breath. It didn’t work. So he reached out for the whisky and poured himself a drink.

Half the bottle later he finally decided to get some rest, too, took off boots and gun, retracted the glasses into his skull and grabbed for the pillow, stuffing it in his neck, laying down.

 

Adam’s slumber didn’t last for a whole hour until he was awake again. Though Ye Hua had been right about this couch being comfortable to lie on, his body armor proved to be very uncomfortable to lie in. There was some seam chafing his back the whole day already, driving him crazy.

Great, here you got a multi-million dollar body and end up suffering from sore skin.

He thought about taking the protective vest off, but hesitated for, literally, bare facts.

Oh, come on, she’s sound asleep, by now. What the hell...

Adam shed his doubts and opened the latches, stripped off the armor and put it aside before he leant back into the pillow again.

Still, rest remained to stay out of reach.

Damn his fast-paced metabolism.

Letting his eyes roam, he surveyed the room he hadn’t paid much attention to before. Most of the furnishing was kept in classic Chinese style, cheap, but atmospheric. Painted folding screens, splayed fans depicting artful landscapes, a tea set next to several books, jovial Buddha figurines. All in all homey.

No wonder Ye Hua didn’t want to move.

Adam shot a glimpse at the door, activating his SMART vision. No movement, not even in the hallway.

Fuck, and the night was still lasting for several hours.

A smoke.

Adam wondered if there was a place he could have a smoke without disturbing Ye Hua’s sleep, when he caught sight of the sliding door behind the couch, leading out to a small balcony.

That should do if he opened the door a crack.

So he poured another drink, got up and sat on the floor next to the window, slid it open a hand’s width and lit a smoke.

A gentle breeze instantly blew over his skin, cooling, and Adam inhaled Lower Hengsha’s night air together with the burned tobacco. Cigarettes still taste best at night.

Outside, oblivious of the late hour, the city didn’t rest either. There were people chatting in the distance, laughing, brawling, music playing; and the narrow streets were illuminated by towering advertisement panels, all under the sprawling roof of Upper Hengsha blocking out the sky.

Adam shot another glance at the door. Still nothing.

Damn, that’s what he hated the most. The wait.

Ever since David had called him in, canceling his sick leave three days ago, Adam hadn’t allowed himself much freedom to idle away. He had enjoyed the rush of a fight, had relished the suspense of infiltration, focusing only on the next target. Even on the long flight to China he’d slept only a few hours, using most of his time to make himself familiar with Hengsha’s customs and locations.

But now he was tied down again, with nothing else to do than wait, and think.

He only hoped Malik was alright and Pritchard could keep her safe. Adam didn’t want to see her in trouble. No matter how tough and professional at her job she was, she had revealed a certain fragility facing the resolve of her friend’s murder today. Though, her nasty revenge on the bastard had been admittedly badass.

Surely, she was fine. She had to be.

Pritchard had his hands full of his own, anyway. Leaving only as much as a hint of what he was challenging, he’d practically cut Adam off earlier. _‘Do you remember what I’ve told you about loopholes? I need to create one. Now let me get to work.’_ And gone he was; with nothing for Adam to do.

Nothing than wait...

He leant his head against the frame and took a drag from the smoke, mind spinning.

There had been a time when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, back when he quit the force. Yet, here he was, crippled in any fashion one could possibly think of and mocked by a TYM billboard advertising augmentation from across the corner.

Improve your life.

Yeah, up yours, too!

All the improvement that’s shown so far was a lot of trouble, a chafed back and a buttload of sexual frustration.

Fuck.

A quiet rustle from behind jerked him back to focus, recalling he was not alone.

Tensing, Adam held his breath, in wait for Ye Hua to steady down; yet the rustling wasn’t followed by silence but a sudden patter of bare feet on the floor, drawing near.

He could sense her approach tingling in his back before he felt the bed-warmth radiating her close by, wafting across his skin - his very naked skin, he suddenly realized.

‘Aren’t you gonna sleep, at all?’ Her voice was barely a whisper in the dark, her immediate proximity unsettling.

‘I did,’ Adam managed a response, throat dry and rasp, but didn’t dare look up at her. ‘For a little while. Don’t mind me, go back to sleep yourself. Sorry for waking you.’

‘You didn’t.’

The next thing he felt was her hand on his shoulder, light as a breeze, brushing the edge of his collar bone.

He stiffened, closed his eyes and fought the turmoil twisting his guts.

‘Don’t.’ He wanted to shrug her off, but couldn’t move. ‘I told you, you don’t have to.’

‘And what if I want to?’ she said, gentle as her touch, trailing her fingertips up his neck into his hairline.

Adam failed to suppress the shudder surging through his body, struggling for breath.

‘You’re trembling,’ she noted, somewhat confused. ‘What’s wrong?’

Pulling back she stepped into his field of view, puzzlement written on her face.

‘What are you fighting? You’re not gay.’

It was more a statement than a question, but Adam felt the urge to clarify.

‘No... That’s not... It’s... I just... haven’t been with anyone since...’ He tilted his shoulders to point out the alteration.

A single, barely noticeable nod showed her understanding before she lowered herself in front of him on the floor, leaning against the opposite window frame, watching.

‘How long has it been?’

Assuming she was asking about the transition rather than his sexual history Adam just answered.

‘Six months.’

Instead of a response she let her eyes roam over his bare chest, the scarred skin, the bolts of metal penetrating his flesh, analyzing.

‘I take it wasn’t an accident,’ she deduced. ‘It happened in the line of duty, then?’

Adam kept silent, but she read him, regardless.

‘Back when you were a cop? No... No, this is more recent. At your corporate employment.’

Adam still didn’t confirm her assumption, every word of hers tearing open a wound he was desperately trying to repress.

‘Security, you said,’ she tore even deeper, observing. ‘There was an assault? And you were there to safeguard. But the invading force was too powerful and you got injured. You... ’ve been dying.’

Suddenly choking on her discovery she paused a moment while Adam was to relive six months of agony in a single instant; a muzzle put to his head, a trigger pulled.

‘They saved your life,’ she eventually concluded, freezing Adam’s agitation on the spot.

‘I didn’t ask for this,’ he spoke the one thought that was left remaining on his mind.

‘To be alive?’

Adam started.

‘No...’

‘But you feel... dehumanized?’

Yes.

A strange wave of relief washed over him, leaving only exhaustion behind. Damn, he was so fucking tired of all this.

He didn’t notice Ye Hua leaning closer until she was on her fours, arms supporting between his cocked legs.

Her sudden nearness set his blood on fire once more.

‘I think you are very much human,’ she whispered, as Adam couldn’t help but take in her warm, vibrant scent, her immediate presence; the features of her face half drowned in the shadows of the darkened room, half illuminated by the city’s lights from outside the window.

She slid even closer, coming to a halt sitting on her heels right between Adam’s legs. And reaching out for his arm, she softly trailed her fingers over the nanoscale skin of the prosthetic.

Though every fiber of his being was screaming for an instant escape he found himself unable to move an inch, stunned, petrified, yet tensely shivering beneath her touch.

‘Do you feel that?’ she asked without pausing her movement.

He painfully did.

Taking his bewildered silence for an answer she took his hand into hers, leading it down to her hip placing it right where the loose end of her shirt met with the waistband of her shorts.

‘Do you feel that?’

Adam had to swallow hard against the lump jamming his throat, his body raving from the long suppressed desire, blood boiling, heart pounding.

‘And that?’

She continued to guide the artificial fingers beneath the fabric of her shirt, upwards, letting him follow the tender shape of her waist, the softness of her skin, up until he reached the firm curves of her bare breast.

Fear, astonishment, lust, panic, all at once descended on him, blending together, terrifying and intoxicating at the same time.

‘See,’ Ye Hua noted gently, cocking her head while fixating Adam’s groin with an endearing smile. ‘Very much human, after all.’

Adam gave out a faint moan of resignation, as she rose slowly, not letting go of his hand, and pulled him up to his feet. He didn’t resist; he doubted he was even able to.

Surrendering, he let her drag him over to the bed where she pushed him down into the pillows, climbing after and atop of him. There, she began to remove his pants with nimble fingers, carefully freeing him from his confinement, before she took off the remaining pieces of her own clothes.

Still not fully processing what was happening, Adam just watched and took in the simple beauty of her unveiled body hovering above him, only covered in an interplay of shadow and light.

He wanted her. Badly.

She flashed him a knowing smile, reached down between her legs and raised him upwards to met her lips, kissing him; and by lowering herself onto his lap, eventually swallowing him up whole.

Adam briefly felt his surroundings fade away, overwhelmed by the pure sensation of flesh meeting flesh. She felt amazingly good; warm, smooth and welcoming; and when she started to roll her hips, Adam finally gave in and let nature take over.

Instinctively straining his back he answered her motion, met her pace, wanting more, as she dug her nails into his waist, inflicting sweet pain and sighing with delight at that.

She was very skilled at what she was doing, slowly riding him into oblivion; but it still wasn’t enough. There was yet more to give, more to gain. He had to retake control.

So he stopped short the next moment, barely stifling his lust, and grabbed the surprised girl, rolling her over, switching positions. She smiled upon the change, buried her hands in his hair and readily wound her legs around his waist, while he took up and transcended her former rhythm.

Animated by the passionate moans he was invoking, he let go of any restraint, probably fucking her harder than was appropriate. But she didn’t seem to mind; in fact she rather enjoyed it, clawing her nails into his neck and meowing her pleasure away.

When he finally climaxed, a long desired wave of relief washed over his mind and body, took along agony and tension, leaving him blank, but somewhat whole.

 

Sleep came never as easy as it did after.

Adam didn’t even remember dozing off when he woke up later, comfortably lying between the sheets, Ye Hua next to him, still slumbering. A check with his cerebral clock revealed the night was just about halfway over, so there was time for another nap. He shifted into a sideways position, head resting on his arm and with clear view on the girl sleeping beside him, watching her.

He had been right, regretting coming here.

The hint of an amused smirk twitched over his lips and, following an impulse, he reached out for her and let the tip of his finger gently run down shoulder and arm, eliciting a faint sigh.

The next moment, though, he heard a very different sound, further away. A muffled thump by the door. And not for the first time, he now realized. It had woken him.

Suddenly alert he jerked up, activating the SMART vision, and discovered, indeed, three shapes standing out there in the hallway, obviously tampering with the electronic lock.

Close call, dammit.

Pulled back into focus by the surge of adrenaline rushing through his veins, he grabbed for Ye Hua’s shoulder, stirring her awake, beckoning to keep quiet and stay put, before he rolled out of bed and slipped back into his pants.

Clever as she was, Ye Hua complied, just quickly put on some clothes herself, while Adam already headed to the door, took position right next to it and examined his opponents through the solid wall.

Two of them were augmented, he noticed, one cranially, one physically, military grade, but dated; and they were arguing in low voices with each other.

Adam turned the volume up to listen in.

‘--’s taking so long?’ The physically enhanced one impatiently demanded to know. ‘I’m not keeping you out of prison for nothing. So do your fucking job!’

This one had to be the Belltower guy. Obviously crooked, too. Would be a pleasure to take him down.

‘You said this was a simple hack. Well, it’s not. So shut the fuck up and let me work.’ The hacker one shot back, before he continued his attempt to hack the console. ‘I almost have it... Wait. There.’

The door unlocked and got pushed open with caution.

From the corner of his eye Adam could see Ye Hua flinch, but she stayed quiet, only hiding further beneath the sheets.

The Belltower guy was the first one to step through the door, gun drawn, vigilant, his two lackeys following just a pace behind. This was almost too easy.

As soon as he was within sight, Adam grabbed for Belltower’s shooting hand and jerked him into the room, tripping him up at that, before he took care of the other two, knocking their heads together, taking them out.

Belltower was just about to recover, frantically looking for the unexpected opponent to point his semi-automatic at, when Adam already turned to face him, closing in and snatching the 10mm out of the weak augmented fingers. Dropping the gun where he stood, he yanked the perplexed guy up, twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him over to the door, deliberately running him into the wall next to it.

‘Fuck! What--’ Belltower began to curse away, failing in his efforts to struggle free; but caught his breath the moment he glimpsed Ye Hua warily approaching. ‘Ye Hua, you dirty, little who--’

Finishing his statement got violently interrupted by Adam slamming his face into the wall and further drowned by the torrent of blood sloshing out of his mangled nose.

‘I’m sorry, your mouth was making strange noises. You were saying...?’

‘You’re so going to regret this, shithead,’ Belltower snuffled, finally directing his aggression at Adam. ‘You’ve no idea who you’re dealing with. I’m--’

‘I don’t care who or what you are, cabron,’ Adam cut him off, tightening his hold and forcing the guy to tiptoe in avoidance of the increasing pain. ‘If you value your shitty existence at all, you gonna bail, forget about the girl and disappear for good. If you don’t...,’ Adam pointedly added even more pressure to his grip. ‘If I ever catch as much as a whisper of you showing up again, I’m going to find you and I will put an end to you, effectively, you get me?’

Belltower wheezed heavily in Adam’s wristlock, only barely keeping his composure, yet still chose defiance as the best course of action.

‘You’ll never get through with this.’

‘You think?’ Adam leant in closer and lowered his voice to a threatening growl. ‘I just need to tip off the Harvesters, letting them know where to find your corpse, and they’ll be selling your body parts before your blood cools out.’

Mentioning the Harvesters finally broke the guy’s attitude, as Adam could feel him crumple in his grip and starting to tremble, while he was obviously imaging the worst outcome of this confrontation possible.

‘Do we have an understanding?’ Adam pressed for affirmation; and his captive couldn’t acknowledge anymore keenly as far as Adam allowed him the freedom to.

‘Good.’ Peeling him off the wall Adam turned Belltower to face Ye Hua, keeping him upright by the wristlock.

‘You tell him, too.’

At first she seemed to be quite at a loss, unsure how to react, then her air slowly darkened, her eyes went grim and when she finally spoke her voice was firm with resentment.

‘I don’t ever want to see your face again!’

‘Make sure to remember that,’ Adam hissed a final warning, twirled the guy around and shoved him out of the still open door. ‘Now get lost.’

Tripping over his unconscious lackeys blocking the doorway Belltower stumbled ahead, shot a last panic-stricken glimpse over his shoulder and, ultimately, turned tail.

‘Holy shit!’ Ye Hua gave vent to her tension after he was gone. ‘That was intense.’

She had no idea.

It’s been a lot of fun, though.

‘Do you really think he won’t be back?’ she uttered her worries still, slowly coming a few steps closer.

‘Yeah, I’m pretty sure,’ Adam stopped her in her tracks by drawing her attention to the fresh, yellow trickles on the floor, everyplace Belltower had been standing recently. ‘Sorry about that.’

To his surprise she was neither angry nor grossed out, but suddenly burst into a laughter teeming with relief.

‘I’ll be damned,’ she chuckled away, then pointed at the two henchmen stacked on her door sill. ‘What about them?’

‘They’ll be fine,’ Adam assured, remembering his job wasn’t finished yet, and went over to clear the thugs out of the way. ‘They’re gonna come to, eventually, leaving with a nasty headache.’

Grabbing each of them by the scruff of their necks, Adam dragged the two out of the apartment and placed them against a wall in the adjacent hallway, creating an impression of just a couple of drunks being asleep.

When he returned, Ye Hua was already cleaning up the mess Belltower had left behind; not without discovering another certain remainder.

‘And what about that?’ she hold the dropped gun out to him, quizzically, and came to her feet.

Adam took the semiauto out of her hands and removed the magazine as well as the life round from the chamber, before he had a closer look at it. She was a Beretta APX10, kept in good condition; and when Adam turned her over, he could see why. The serial markings had been erased, making it quite difficult to track the weapon down.

‘Could I...’ Ye Hua spoke up again, giving him a beseeching look. ‘... keep it?’

Puzzled by the unexpected request, Adam met her eyes, yet remained silent, waiting for her to explain.

She appeared insecure now, hugging herself like she did before, rubbing her arms, while she shot reluctant glimpses all over the scene of events.

‘That bastard broke into my home,’ she finally made her point and raised her eyes back at him. ‘I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here. I don’t even want to think about it. But most of all, I don’t ever want to feel that powerless again.’

Adam understood all too well.

‘Do you know how to handle these?’ he asked, flipping the 10mm around, holding it out to her, butt first.

‘No,’ she shook her head, taking the gun. ‘But you can show me. I’m a quick study.’

He had no doubt she was.

So, Adam taught her everything there was to know about operating a semiauto; taught her how to treat the ammo, how to dis- and reassemble the weapon, clean it, care for it. He showed her the proper grip on a firearm, accurate stance, aiming.

And when he was satisfied with her progress, he decided to show her some additional tricks for disarming and outmaneuvering an opponent as well. Not without them being all over each other again, at some point, and inevitably going in for round two.

 

The short, white noise signaling an incoming Infolink connection disrupted Adam’s sleep, stirring him wide awake.

‘Jensen,’ Pritchard’s voice immediately followed, while Adam made a quick time check. It was already past dawn.

‘Yeah, gimme a sec.’

Ye Hua was still asleep and since he didn’t want to wake her, Adam carefully rolled out of bed and slipped into his pants, before he receded into the seclusion of the bathroom.

‘What’ve you got for me?’ he asked for the update, closing the door.

‘What I have,’ the snarky voice responded, ‘is a way for you out of that shithole. After I’ve finally managed to get through they caught on to me fast, but I was able to leave a protocol which will mask Malik’s B-EE as one of their own transports. The executable window is tight, though. You’ve got less than twenty minutes to make it up to the landing pad in Kuaigan District. Malik will pick you up, so you better get moving, now.’

‘I will,’ Adam reassured, not without regretting he had to rush off so fast. But it was probably for the best this way.

If there were just something more he could...

‘Pritchard,’ he pursued that notion. ‘You got a lock on my location?’

‘Of course, I do,’ the hacker strained his answer. ‘You think I’m just an overpaid tool?’

Adam chose to neglect the remark.

‘Do me a favor and put a security detail on this place.’

‘What? Wait, why?’ A suspicious tone mixed into Pritchard’s voice. ‘Jensen, are you with a girl?’

‘What the hell does that matter?’ Adam felt a way too familiar annoyance resurfacing.

‘You’re not even denying?’ Pritchard was getting himself all worked up. ‘I can’t believe it. I’m busting my ass all night long to get you out of there, almost having my hardware fried in the process, while you are enjoying yourself with a woman. And now you want me to slave even more, stalking your little tramp, on top of that?’

Adam’s anger barely had a chance of rising when he noticed the heavy exhaustion showing through Pritchard’s rant.

‘Just do this for me, Francis. Pretty please?’

‘Alright, alright, just stop groveling. It’s giving me the creeps.’

Worked like a charm, though.

Adam found the trace of an amused grin twitching his lips. It’s been a while, but it felt good.

‘You owe me, Jensen.’

‘Yeah, whatever.’

With Pritchard cutting off, Adam returned to the living room, where he quickly put on boots, vest, arms and coat, before he hesitated once more, having a last pondering look at the still sleeping Ye Hua.

No, there wasn’t anything more he could do for her.

Suddenly, the Beretta lying on the cocktail table caught his attention and after a moment of consideration he took out two clips of his own 10mm ammo, placing them beside the gun. It also didn’t take him long to find pen and paper to write a short note.

_Don’t hesitate to pull the trigger. It may safe your life._

Below he added his contact. Just in case.

Then he finally turned and left the place to meet up with Malik.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my conclusion of the game - and the very reason why I started to write DX:HR fiction in the first place  
> heavily inspired by [Miracle Of Sound - Don't Say A Word](https://youtu.be/41BP-0FnzeQ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally hosted on [DeviantART](http://shir0gane.deviantart.com/art/New-Black-Gold-part4-684687240). See comments there for further details.

_2027, Arctic Ocean, Panchaea, Central Hub_

 

Lies and truths.

Fragile constructs of information spinned just on a single person’s whim, steering humanity down a path of arbitrary choosing, rather than mutual consent. It’s been done for centuries; and it wasn’t going to stop for as long as mankind remained divided.

Adam was no different, he realized facing the momentous decision he’d just made while Eliza Cassan was broadcasting a twisted reality about that horrible incident which had cost countless lives all over the globe already.

Time had been against him and to effectively put a stop to the signal causing the neural manipulation of every augmented being Adam had to make a choice. So, torn between Taggart’s aim for regulation and control, Darrow’s personal resentment and Sarif’s ideal of free advancement he’d picked the apparent lesser evil.

He didn’t like it, despised the lies; he’d rather chosen not at all.

Even Hugh Darrow’s truth had been distorted and infected with madness. Driven by fear of a dark future the Father of Tomorrow had become a mass murderer and was about to trigger worldwide genocide.

Fear didn’t solve anything.

And the only man embracing progress, the only man sustaining a bright vision of evolution was David Sarif; the only choice.

Then, why the hell, did it still feel so wrong?

Perhaps because even the brightest prospect can’t take root in a web of lies.

Adam closed his eyes, clenched his fists resting on the accursed console in front of him and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, while Eliza was blaming Humanity Front for biological warfare conducted on augmented people.

It was too late for remorse now, anyway. The news were broadcasting. He might as well get moving. There were still a lot of things to take care of.

‘Je--sen,’ Adam’s Infolink suddenly went off, relaying Pritchard’s voice right into his ear, disrupted by heavy interferences. ‘--nal ha-- --pped. --hat’s hap-- --ight?’

‘Pritchard, hang on.’

Downright glad for the tech intervening his brooding thoughts Adam pushed away from the terminal, turned his back to the central hub and crossed through the demolished Hyron Core to the elevator that would take him out of there.

‘Dam--it, Jensen, t--lk to me,’ Pritchard was growing more edgy by the second as Adam entered the platform and began his long ascent towards the surface. ‘I --n barely read --u.’

Adam was actually surprised they were able to communicate at all, considering he had been standing at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean in a 1.5 kilometer deep pit built of massive, reinforced concrete.

‘You’re coming through more clear now,’ he informed the tech.

‘Th--nk --od. --hat’s going on --ver there? Th-- signal has stopped broadcast-- --nd Eliza Cass--n’s spewing non--se about --manity Front an-- --iological --fare. May I assume --u’ve got s--mething to do with --at?’

‘Kind of.’

‘Of --ourse, you do. What --bout you? A-- you alright?’

‘Careful, Francis, you’re slipping.’ Adam couldn’t help but make a remark. The familiar banter with Pritchard put a sense of ease to his mind, keeping the madness at bay he’d had to deal with these past hours.

‘So, that’s -– “yes”, then,’ Pritchard deduced matter-of-factly and went on. ‘What’s --he situation --ere?’

‘Heavy casualties on the whole staff.’ Adam tried not to think about the bloodbath he’d had to wade through on his way down. ‘We’re going to need emergency response and evac teams.’

‘Yeah, you and th-- whole goddamn planet,’ the tech threw in a bitter remainder. ‘But I’m --ready ahead of you. --’ve dispatched a squad of VTOLs as soon --s I got a ping on your location. ETA about two hours.’

‘That’s about two hours too long, Pritchard.’ Adam just wanted to get out of here.

‘C--n’t help it. You’re quite --iterally in the middle of nowhere, you know.’

Yeah, Adam had noticed.

‘And you are --elcome, by the way.’

‘Yeah, yeah, my heartfelt thanks. What about Sarif?’ Adam diverted. ‘Could you get in touch with him?’

‘No. As I’ve told you before, there’s --oo much interference. So far, you’re the only one I’m able to reach.’

So, David most likely didn’t know yet, severed from any communication. Great...

‘--ay I assume, the boss --s ok then?’ the tech inquired further. ‘Did you find him?’

‘Yeah, Sarif’s alright,’ Adam assured. ‘So are Taggart, Darrow and some of the UN delegations.’

Pritchard’s lack of a response showed his poor enthusiasm for that latter part of the news.

‘I’m on my way there right now,’ Adam added, already dreading the confrontation with his employer, dreading the inevitable talk both of them were bound to have, especially now that Adam knew he was most likely the one telling David of his decision.

‘--ood. Make sure, you keep the boss safe,’ Pritchard emphasized, secluding.

‘I will.’

Shortly after the tech cut off Adam approached the top of the well and went on heading through the corridors towards another elevator that would take him down to the engineering level where Sarif had barricaded himself along with a few survivors.

With Pritchard’s final words still clinging to his mind Adam couldn’t help but recall that icy grip of fear that had clenched his guts as soon as he’d learned David had been invited to Panchaea. Right after he had discovered Hugh Darrow was up to his neck involved in all of this shit, collaborating with the Illuminati and repurposing Sarif’s research for horrifying intentions.

All Adam could think of from that moment on was to get David out of there as soon as possible. Not even Megan had mattered anymore. That he’d had to stay in Singapore, since he couldn’t simply abandon the research team he’d just located, almost drove him insane - as did the live broadcast showing the massacre launch.

The incredible relief he’d felt when he caught David’s transmission and found him alive and ranting at Panchaea later quickly got soured by everything he had to accuse David of. Patient X, the Illuminati, the lies and half-truths.

Adam had no idea how to face the boss again; had no idea how to talk to him. Not since they were equally guilty now.

Arriving at his destination he carefully stepped over the corpses of two SI security guards bleeding on the floor. He had known both of them. Wacker and Doyle. Adam had interviewed and hired them himself. Good men.

He cleared away the heavy containers blocking the door these two had died protecting and entered the small machine dock beyond.

‘Adam,’ David immediately rushed over, worry written all over his face. ‘You’re back! Oh God, are you alright? What happened?’

Adam just now remembered the damage he’d taken during his battle against the Hyron defense system, the pain simply caught up in a rush of adrenaline and injuries mended by his Sentinel Health System afterwards. He could feel the blood drying on his skin and sticking to his hair however.

‘I’m fine,’ he assured, moving on. ‘It’s over. I shut the signal down.’

‘Thank God!’ The relief in David’s voice was genuine, yet the plain urge glinting in his eyes spoke volumes. He really didn’t know what had happened and expected Adam to bring him up to speed.

Problem was, Adam still didn’t feel like talking.

‘We should clear out.’

‘Adam--’

‘You said, you’ve got wounded here,’ Adam cut him off, deflecting and addressing everybody else instead. ‘I came across another group rallied around William Taggart and a LIMB store on my way in. Rescue teams are also already inbound. I suggest we join up, gather all the medical supplies we can carry and see what we can do for the survivors.’ Not that there were many left. But Adam knew sooner or later the ones he’d taken down would come to, being confused, afraid, traumatized.

Mentioning Taggart had caused David to grimace his discontent, though he managed to compose himself and concur with Adam’s proposition.

‘Of course. You’re right, son,’ he relented, showing only a hint of hesitation as he turned away and took charge of the group. His self-restraint didn’t make it any easier for Adam to keep him in the dark. He deserved to know.

Supporting each other, the three women and two guys came to their feet and followed Adam and David out of the room, where they found themselves confronted with the mayhem that had afflicted Panchaea - and the world beyond.

‘Jesus...’ David gasped at the sight of the two maimed SI security men, his air darkening with grief.

‘I’ve found three more,’ Adam threw in, hoping to ease the pain at least a bit. ‘Had to take them down, but they’ll live.’ Provided anyone could live with what had happened.

David gave him a look of gratitude and they went on to the elevator and up to the ring section, where Adam led the group to Taggart’s hideout.

He wasn’t eager to face the head of Humanity Front either, knowing he expected the same kind of affirmation from him as David. Tough luck he was about to score just as much.

‘Mr. Jensen,’ Taggart approached him in obvious anticipation, but stopped short the moment he glimpsed David following right behind, his demeanor dropping. ‘Mr. Sarif. I didn’t know you were still--’

‘Alive?’ David cut in, provocative.

‘I meant to say “around”. But since you’re putting it this way, yes, I’m glad to see you unharmed. You as well, Mr. Jensen.’

‘Yeah, I bet,’ David gnarled his displeasure and both men fixated each other with scrutinizing eyes, clueless on where to stand with each other.

As the tension almost became tangible Adam cleared his throat and redirected their attention to more pressing matters.

‘We’re headed to the LIMB infirmary and the landing pad. Rescue teams are already en route. I recommend, you and your group join us to wait for their arrival.’

‘Well, is it safe to leave?’ Taggart voiced his concern, whereat David gave out a dismissive snort.

‘It is,’ Adam ensured, throwing his boss an annoyed look. ‘I’ve secured the way and deactivated the signal. There shouldn’t be any threats left.’

‘Deactivated the signal, did you,’ Taggart’s focus shifted once again, observantly watching David as if he expected to find some hint written right on his forehead.

Adam lost the last shred of patience he’d had conserved, turned his back and covered the distance to the door.

‘You coming? I’d like to move.’ Not waiting for a response he pushed through the group staying outside and went ahead towards the LIMB store, where he had left nurse Gerta Mueller behind.

He’d just finished unblocking the doorway when the straddlers finally closed in, tailed by a rather rattled appearing Taggart. Pearls of cold sweat were visibly rolling down his temples and his face had taken on a sickly pale color.

‘My God, my God,’ he kept whispering without cease, eyes wide and absorbing the carnage all around.

‘You’re back,’ nurse Gerta called out to Adam from behind the counter, relief mixed into her edgy Germanic accent. ‘Is it over?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam affirmed. ‘But we got wounded here.’

‘Yes, natürlich. I’ll take care of them.’

Leaving her office she crossed through the chaos of the store and began asking for everybody’s condition, before treating the most severe injuries first.

Meanwhile, Adam cleared the way to the surgical wing and went browsing through the ORs in search for medical supplies; stims, trauma kits, sedatives.

When he returned, carrying a box full of first aid equipment, he noticed David standing by the door as if waiting for him, but eyes locked on the mangled corpse right in the middle of the store.

Taggart, observing the same scene from across the room, all of a sudden doubled over and noisily hurled into a potted plant next to him. Obviously the psychiatrist couldn’t stand what actually lay buried beneath the human surface.

‘Good Lord,’ David mumbled his disgust, though he didn’t look much better himself.

Following that thought Adam put the box down and went over to grab the body by the scruff of its neck, dragging it out of sight into the surgical wing. On his return David gave him a brief nod of appreciation, before they both watched in silence Taggart trying to regain his dignity.

‘What about you, boss?’ Adam eventually asked, motioning to the still busy nurse. ‘Are you going to be alright?’

‘Yeah,’ David confirmed. ‘I got away with just the scare.’ The shock and heavy fatigue were clearly showing, yet.

Adam had to get him out of there.

‘Thanks to your men,’ David surprisingly added, causing Adam to have a quick glance at him.

Voicing gratitude or apology never came easy to the boss, so Adam was well aware of the meaning behind David’s words.

‘You’re welcome.’

Now it was David’s turn to eye his security chief more closely, estimating his odds of getting an answer out of him. But apparently David also knew him too well and so he kept quiet.

 

After nurse Gerta finally had finished treating the wounded, Adam engaged two unharmed guys with the task of carrying the medical supplies before he led his entourage of twelve on, clearing the path from obstacles and screening every corridor for potential movement.

They reached the entrance level without incident and at Adam’s order set up a provisional base in the hall across the landing pad. From there nurse Gerta and a few volunteers spread out to take care of anyone still breathing they could find.

Adam, however, left the group including Sarif and Taggart behind and made his way up the tower alone to go and collect Darrow.

‘Pritchard,’ he hailed the tech, riding the elevator. ‘How long until the ERT arrives?’

‘They are still fort-- minutes out,’ the update came promptly.

Adam stifled a groan of resignation. Still too far out.

‘What’s your status? --u got everyone clear?’ Pritchard followed up, while the elevator came to a halt, doors opening.

‘Almost. I’m picking up Darrow, right now.’

‘If it were --p to me, you could leave him there to rot,’ the tech stated his mind as Adam was climbing the stairs towards the conference room where the whole calamity had originated.

‘Good thing then, it’s not up to you.’

‘Always the cop, eh, Jensen?’

‘SWAT-- Wait a minute...’ Arriving at the top of the tower Adam’s senses suddenly notified him of something being off, stopping him short.

‘What? What’s wrong?’ Pritchard inquired, tensing.

‘Hold on...’

Yeah, there was no doubt, the sensation being too familiar. The floor felt way too quiet, way too dead, and activating the SMART vision Adam confirmed his suspicion. There was no life left here.

‘Shit!’

Stirring into motion he quickly covered the distance to the broken viewing panel, vaulted over the edge and into the room where he had parted with Darrow - just to find him slouched in front of the panoramic window, eyes wide and the contents of his skull splattered all over the glass behind him. The Father of Tomorrow being but another corpse among many.

‘Jensen?’ the tech made no effort to conceal his growing impatience.

‘Darrow’s gone,’ Adam let him in, devoid of any compassion. ‘Ate a gun; blew his brains out.’

Pritchard didn’t take long to chew on this news.

‘Asshole.’

‘Yeah.’

Turning his back Adam left the fallen visionary behind. In the end he’d been like neither Daedalus nor Frankenstein; he’d rather become the Monster himself, resenting his very existence and cowardly evading the consequences of his actions.

When Adam regrouped with the base shortly after, he found himself subject of both David’s and Taggart’s immediate attention.

‘Darrow’s not coming,’ he tried to keep it simple, but Taggart didn’t seem to catch the drift.

‘Wha...’

‘Ever.’

Silenced, the Humanity Front leader slumped down on a box, processing Adam’s statement. David on the other hand took it with more dignity, though the dismay and pain written on his face was obvious. Darrow had been his lifelong friend and mentor after all.

Nurse Gerta apparently had found six additional survivors during Adam’s absence, now carefully treating each with sedatives and first aid kits.

Adam simply couldn’t bear all the misery anymore, so he kept his distance, retreating to the doors and keeping an eye out for the incoming VTOLs. He even thought about having a smoke somewhere secluded, but didn’t want to give either Sarif nor Taggart the opportunity to catch him alone.

So he waited, barely checking his restlessness.

Thirty lasting minutes later he finally spotted five dots approaching in the distance, a sight of relief, stirring him into motion again. As the aircrafts were advancing he prepared everybody for their arrival and cleared the doors to go outside and meet the squad, closely followed by David and Taggart.

The VTOLs, marked as Sarif Industries property, carefully avoided the burning wreckage scattered about and set down nearby, company medics immediately emerging and heading towards the facility.

‘Mr. Jensen. Mr. Sarif, sir,’ the pilot of B-EE 006 called out against the keen winds, leaving his cockpit. ‘I can take you out of here as soon as you’re ready.’

‘Never been more ready, Jonas,’ David declared, but turned to address the Humanity Front leader a last time. ‘Please, Mr. Taggart, be my guest and let one of my crafts send you home.’

‘That’s... very generous of you, Mr. Sarif,’ Taggart took the offer, keeping reasonably suspicious though.

‘It’s the least I can do. You’ll find your seat among the other evacuees then.’ David waved him off and was about to leave, when Taggart held him back again, inconveniently caught up in the affront.

‘May I... have a word with Mr. Jensen in private, please?’

David hesitated for the blink of a moment throwing Adam a wary look, but gave his consent nonetheless.

‘Sure, sure. I’ll be waiting inside the chopper, having a long overdue drink.’

With David retreating Taggart came a step closer, appealing to Adam.

‘Mr. Jensen, you’re welcome to travel in my company instead. I’m sure we have much to discuss.’

‘Sorry, Mr. Taggart,’ Adam rejected out of hand, ‘but I got to talk to Sarif.’

And leaving matters at that, he turned to board the B-EE, joining with David.

 

 

_2027, Arctic Control Area, FL380, B-EE 006_

 

The silence that held the passenger compartment in its grip ever since the B-EE got airborne was borderline deafening.

As he’d announced David was already having a drink, when Adam entered the VTOL and took a seat across his boss, not without noticing another glass of Bourbon waiting there for him.

He hadn’t touched it yet. He still was at a loss on how to initiate the conversation. David hadn’t uttered a word either, not making it any easier. And the Bourbon, obviously meant for him, had Adam remorsefully recall that talk they’d had back in his apartment a few days ago, when he didn’t offer the drink to his boss.

He’d been an idiot thinking he could defy him. The fact that he was here now made that abundantly clear.

Adam dared a look at David, quietly watching him empty his glass and have an immediate refill from the bottle stored behind a panel. The fatigue was showing even more now that he was diffusing his tension in hard liquor - the shiny, augmented hand slightly trembling as he poured the amber liquid.

‘So,’ David broke the silence, capping the bottle. ‘Are we going to talk or do you want me to gather it all from the news?’ Picking up the glass he leant back into the seat and fixated Adam with an overt demand glinting in his eyes.

Adam couldn’t help but grit his teeth and draw a breath, trying to quell the rising anger.

Damn, the old fox could be vexing; especially when he was out for it.

At least the provocation gave Adam the sense of resolve he’d been so desperately in need for.

Well aware of the effect his artificial irises would have in the dim light of the cabin he retracted the shades into his skull and met David’s gaze with grim determination.

‘Just to be clear,’ he growled, ‘this was the first and last time I’ve ever lied for you. You want to lie, you do it yourself!’

The accusation hit a nerve, sparking a whole range of reactions across David’s face; relief, sorrow, discontent, remorse.

He had his reply quickly at hand, though.

‘Yes, you’re right. And I’m sorry, I had to put that on you. But we both know that lie won’t stand the tides. It’ll just give us some time to--’

‘You’re missing the point here!’ Adam sharply cut in, patience snapping.

David started, thrown off by the outburst, and avoided Adam’s glare with notable unease until he managed to collect himself, reconsidering his approach.

‘The lies, I know,’ he slowly nodded and gave in to a sigh. ‘It’s time I do right by you, son, I’m aware of that. So, no more lies. You got my word.’

The sudden compliance was as surprising as it was hard to believe. Things were never that easy with the boss. But - whether it was the Bourbon or a guilty conscience talking - David seemed to be willing to put himself in the line of fire this time.

‘Come on,’ he prompted, lifting his eyes back at Adam. ‘I’m throwing you a bone here. Ask away. Whatever you want.’

‘Thanks, but I think I’ve figured out pretty much everything myself by now,’ Adam passed up surly.

The experiments on the children at White Helix Labs about thirty years ago, the fire which had destroyed the entire facility, Adam’s birth parents who had caused the accident and died in the blaze, his foster parents taking him in; and now this genetic anomaly that allowed his body to accept any implant without rejection syndromes.

Yeah, there weren’t many open questions remaining.

Except for something that had been nagging at him ever since he had David convinced to reveal the correspondence with the PI he’d had hired to check on Adam’s background. Not that Adam minded the investigation itself. That he understood. It was standard corporate procedure, and reasonable on top of that, given his occupational past.

No, he needed to know something else from David. The only question that actually mattered and would decide everything from here on.

‘There is one thing, though,’ Adam fixated his employer, eyes glaring. ‘Patient X.’

Not without a certain satisfaction he watched Sarif tense at that reference and let his alias linger for a moment before he went on.

‘Did you know before you hired me?’

David’s tension visibly wore off as he slumped back into his seat and took a breath of relief.

‘No. No, son, I didn’t,’ he shook his head, reassuring. ‘Megan didn’t reveal the source of her research to me until after your initial medical exam - until after she had conclusive data to present.’

Yeah, Adam remembered. That test took place after he’d shaken hands with David sealing their engagement. It was the first mandatory term of every Sarif Industries employment contract to determine the compatibility with implants. The very reason for Adam’s modification and why he was still alive.

‘But you told her to keep it secret,’ Adam wasn’t finished blaming his boss, unwilling to let go of his resentment so easily.

‘Of course, I did,’ David justified, flaring up again. ‘I couldn’t know how you would react, now, could I? Megan had kept that secret for years already and I just couldn’t take the risk of--’

‘-- me saying “no”.’ As much as he hated it, Adam understood. David simply was trying to protect his vision.

‘Look, son,’ David followed up. ‘I hired you after Radford dug up your SWAT psych eval. You’ve read the file. It was enough to tell me you were exactly the kind of man I was looking for. I hired you because I needed someone like you.’

‘What for?’ Realizing his original question yet contained a part he hadn’t been aware of, Adam threw a quizzical look at his boss.

David leant back, closed his eyes and took a breath. Then he put down the glass, but kept his artificial arm poised, conspicuous, regarding the polychrome reflections dancing on the engraved, metallic surface.

Adam couldn’t help but find himself captivated by the artful craftsmanship of David’s prosthetic, as he always was.

‘Do you know how I got this?’

‘I know the rumors,’ Adam admitted, aware of David stalling again. He played along, though, expectant there was some point to the sidetracking.

‘They are true,’ David verified. ‘Well, most of it anyway. Yes, I traded an entirely healthy arm for an artificial one. But not for the reasons everyone is gossiping about. I mean, I love my Baseball, but--’

‘I know,’ Adam cut in, voicing his long-standing impression of Sarif Industries’ CEO. ‘You wanted to be an example there is nothing to be afraid of. I get that.’

‘Exactly!’ David exclaimed, gesturing. ‘And that’s why I won’t give in to their insane demands.’

‘You mean the Illuminati.’

‘They want to bury it, Adam. They want to control and contain human augmentation. They believe mankind isn’t ready to take evolution into its own hands.’

‘Maybe they are right,’ Adam argued, at strife.

‘Maybe,’ David responded with a shrug. ‘But who are we to decide? Who are they to decide? Don’t you think everyone should be able to choose for themselves?’

‘Like I did?’

Adam regretted the impulsive remark the moment he noticed the bitter anguish in David’s eyes. No matter how fiercely he was always defending his actions David actually felt guilty for following through with the terms of contract - and beyond.

‘So, you want me to protect your dream, then?’ Adam redirected back to the chase.

‘I want you to protect much more than that.’

David’s air grew dead serious as he pointed at Adam.

‘What you have there, the X-Mutagen, it’s the next step of evolution, son. No matter the circumstances how you got it, but you got it. You’re naturally able to bond with technology. Your sole existence is proof of that. Like it or not, but you are the key element of all of this. And there are people who don’t want you to share it - or even make it public. People who might want to exploit it. That’s why I gave you the means to defend this discovery - against anything or anyone threatening.’

Slowly realizing David’s caution also applied to Sarif Industries itself, Adam finally began to understand.

‘Even against you, if it comes to that.’

The immediate silence being confirmation enough both men faced the heavy truth of their arrangement. Then David stirred into motion again, picking up his Bourbon, groaning.

‘Ahh, let’s make sure it won’t.’ Lifting the glass he paused once more, though, and pointed a metallic finger at Adam. ‘But I’m counting on you, son.’

Adam felt his chest tighten, rendering his voice hoarse.

‘Yes, boss.’

Satisfied, David took a long swig, and Adam stopped resisting.

He’d never had loved the old man more than this moment.

He wouldn’t let him down.


End file.
